DUKE 

UNIVERSITY 


LIBRARY 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2018  with  funding  from 
Duke  University  Libraries 


https://archive.org/details/irishconfederate01fiel 


Eng^byW.G.  Jackman  NY 


KMnrjr.. 


NEW  YORK  HARPER  k  BROTHER?. 


THE 


IRISH  CONFEDERATES, 

)\ 

AND 


€\st  lUbllinti  nf  1798. 


BY 


HENRY  M.  FIELD. 


HARPER  &  BROTHERS, 

82  CLIFF  STREET. 

1851. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1851, 

BY  CYRUS  W.  FIELD, 

In  the  Clerk’s  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  New  York. 


°f  4  /.T7 

F  ‘iSi-T 


TO  THE  DESCENDANTS 

OF 


TONE,  SAMPSON,  EMMET,  AND  McNEVEN, 

RESIDING  IN  THE  CITY  OF  NEW  YORK, 

®l)is  Volume  is  Inscribed, 

IN  MEMORY  OF  THE  HAPPY  HOURS 


PASSED  IN  THEIR  SOCIETY. 


CONTENTS 


Preface, 


page 
-  9 


CHAPTER  I. 

A  Glance  at  Irish  History. — Aborigines  of  the  Island.— Phoenician  Colonies. — Traces  of 
an  Asiatic  Origin.— St.  Patrick  introduces  Christianity. — Invasion  of  the  Danes. — 
Henry  U.  undertakes  to  subdue  Ireland  to  the  Pope,  -  ..----15 

CHAPTER  n. 

Why  the  Irish  hate  the  English. — Ireland  a  conquered  Country. — No  Fusion  of  Races. — 
Intermarriages  prohibited. — Attempt  of  Elizabeth  to  exterminate  the  Natives  by 
Famine. — Duplicity  of  the  Stuarts. — Cromwell  in  Ireland. — Massacre  of  Drogheda, 
and  Estates  confiscated. — English  Plantations. — Policy  of  Charles  II.  to  depress  Ire¬ 
land. — Revolution  of  1688. — The  Irish  forced  to  emigrate. — Scene  at  the  Surrender 
of  Limerick. — Irish  Brigade  formed  in  the  European  Armies,  -----  21 

CHAPTER  III. 

Difference  of  Religion. — Why  the  Reformation  did  not  spread  in  Ireland  as  it  did  in 
Scotland.— Henry  VIII.  introduces  it  as  a  Matter  of  Policy. — Sends  over  Preachers 
ignorant  and  immoral.— The  Catholics  persecuted. — Penal  Laws  against  them. — 
Priest-hunting,  as  among  the  Scotch  Covenanters,  -  --  --  --35 

CHAPTER  IV. 

The  Struggle  for  Irish  Independence  begins.— The  American  War. — Danger  of  a  French 
Invasion. — The  Irish  Volunteers  organized.— Demand  for  Free-trade  and  an  Indepen¬ 
dent  Parliament. — Revolution  of  1782. — Rejoicings  of  the  People. — Political  Abuses 
still  exist. — Demand  for  further  Reform. — Grattan. — The  French  Revolution  breaks 
out,  -----------------48 


CHAPTER  V. 

Curran. — His  Boyhood  passed  among  the  Peasantry. — Attends  their  Weddings  and 
Funerals. — College  Life. — Destined  for  the  Church. — Chooses  the  Law. — Studies  to 
make  himself  an  Orator — Powers  of  Conversation. — Playful  Fancy. — Wit,  Humor, 
and  Pathos. — Extreme  Sensibility. — Sudden  Transitions  of  Feeling. — Constitutional 
Melancholy.— Character  of  his  Eloquence. — He  defends  a  Catholic  Priest.— The  State 
Trials.— His  Love  of  Ireland,  ------------61 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Theobald  Wolfe  Tone. — Early  Life. — Marriage. — Studies  Law.— Project  of  a  Military 
Expedition  to  the  South  Seas. — Settles  in  Dublin. — Friendship  with  Emmet  and 
Russoll, . --....73 


VI 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Excitement  caused  by  the  French  Revolution. — Tone  onters  into  Politics.— Division  of 
Parties  in  Ireland.— He  endeavors  to  unite  the  Dissenters  and  Catholics. — Founds  the 
Society  of  United  Irishmen.— Is  appointed  Secretary  to  the  Catholic  Committee. — 

His  Efforts  to  obtain  Catholic  Emancipation. — Opposed  by  the  Protestant  Ascend¬ 
ency. — Convention  in  Dublin. — Petition  to  George  III.,  ------  79 

CHAPTER  Yin. 

The  Irish  Volunteers  disbanded. — Earl  Fitzwilliam  Lord  Lieutenant. — The  United 
Irishmen  changed  to  a  Secret  Society— Rev.  William  Jackson  arrives  as  an  Emis¬ 
sary  from  France. — Is  arrested. — Anecdote  of  his  Imprisonment. — Trial  for  Treason, 
and  Death. — Hamilton  Rowan  makes  his  Escape  from  Newgate. — Fidelity  of  Irish 
Sailors. — Tone  floes  to  America. — Meets  old  Comrades. — Sails  for  France,  -  -  -  96 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Tone  in  Franco. — Shiel’s  Speech. — Acquaintance  with  James  Monroe. — Audience  of 
Carnot. — Life  in  Paris. — Plans  for  invading  Ireland. — General  Hoche. — Tone’s  first 
Interview. — Council  of  War  with  Hoche  and  Carnot,  ------  -110 

CHAPTER  X. 

Tone  in  Hocho’s  Staff. — Accompanies  him  to  the  Army. — Armament  preparing  at 
Brest. — Ruse  with  a  Spy. — Tone  enlists  Irish  Prisoners.— An  Emissary  sent  to  Dub¬ 
lin. — Tho  Troops  embark. — The  Expedition  sails. — Reaches  Bantry  Bay. — Driven  off 
the  Coast  by  a  Gale  of  Wind,  -  -  --  --  --  --  -  -129 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Tone  goes  with  Hoche  to  the  Rhine. — Battle  of  Neuwied.— Plan  of  a  second  Expedition 
from  Holland. — Dutch  Fleet  in  the  Texel. — Admiral  Dewinter. — Mutiny  at  the 
Nore. — Battle  of  Camperdown.— Death  of  Hoche. — Formation  of  the  Army  of  Eng¬ 
land. — Napoleon  sails  for  Egypt,  -  --  --  --  --  --  145 

CHAPTER  XII. 

The  United  Irish  Society  completes  its  Organization.— Numbers  and  Wealth  involved 
in  it. — Oaths  of  Secrecy. — Organized  into  an  Army. — Attempt  to  suppress  it  by 
Force. — The  Triumvirate,  Clare,  Castlereagh,  and  Cai  hampton. — Reign  of  Terror  in 
Ireland. — Men  tortured  to  force  Confessions. — The  State  Trials. — The  Struggle  ap¬ 
proaching. — Military  Preparations. — The  North  impatient  to  rise. — Fatal  Reliance  on 
France,  ----------------  159 

CHAPTER  XIII. 

Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald. — High  Birth. — Serves  in  the  American  War  under  Lord 
Rawdon.— Wounded  at  the  Battle  of  Eutaw  Springs. — Travels  in  Spain. — Rejoins  his 
Regiment  in  Canada. — Tour  to  the  Fails  of  Niagara,  the  Great  Lakes,  and  the  Missis¬ 
sippi. — Returns  to  England. — Meets  Fox  and  Sheridan  in  the  Society  of  London, — 
Visits  Paris  during  tho  French  Revolution. — Marries  a  Daughtor  of  Madame  de  Gen- 
lis. — Enters  Parliament. — Joins  the  United  Irishmen. — Is  appointed  Commander-in- 
Cliief— 1 Talents  for  War. — Military  Tactics, . .  175 

CHAPTER  XIV. 

Thomas  Addis  Emmet.— The  Three  Brothers.— His  Education. — Studies  Medicine  at 
Edinburgh.' — Travels  on  tho  Continent. — Adopts  the  Profession  of  Law. — Commences 
Practice  in  Dublin. — State  Trials. — He  takes  tho  Oath  of  the  United  Irishmen  in  open 
Court.— Intimacy  with  Tone.— Joins  the  Society.— Is  chosen  ono  of  tho  Directors.  -  191 


CONTENTS. 


vii 


CHAPTER  XV. 

William  James  McNeven. — A  Connaught  Man. — Educated  at  Prague  and  Vienna. — 
Settles  as  a  Physician  in  Dublin. — Bold  Conduct  in  the  Catholic  Convention. — Inter¬ 
view  with  an  Emissary  from  France.— Sent  on  a  Mission  to  Paris,  -  196 

CHAPTER  XVI. 

William  Sampson.— Early  Voyage  to  America. — Commences  the  Practice  of  Law  in  Bel¬ 
fast.— Intimacy  with  Curran. — Anecdotes. — They  are  employed  together  on  the  State 
Trials.— Friendship  of  Lord  Moira,  -  203 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Secrecy  of  tho  Conspiracy.— Fidelity  of  the  Irish  to  their  Oaths. — Spies  of  Govern¬ 
ment. — Reynolds  betrays  the  Leaders. — They  are  seized  whilo  in  Council. — Arrest  of 
Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald. — Trial  and  Execution  of  two  Brothers,  -  -  -  210 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 


The  Rebellion  or  1798. — Plot  to  take  Dublin. — Rising  in  Kildare. — Engagements. — 
General  Panic. — Proclamation  to  the  Army,  ---------  220 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Insurrection  in  Wexford. — Provoked  by  Cruelties  of  the  Soldiery. — The  Rising  headed 
by  a  Catholic  Priest. — Battle  of  Oulurt  Hill. — Battle  of  Enniscorthy. — Vinogar  Ilili 
chosen  us  the  Centre  of  Operations. — Scenes  in  the  Rebel  Camp,  -  227 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Panic  at  Wexford. — The  Rebels  march  on  that  Town. — Battle  of  the  Three  Rocks. — 
Flight  of  the  King's  Troops.— The  Insurgents  march  against  Gorey. — They  defoat 
Colonel  Walpole.— Crisis  of  the  War,  -  --  --  --  --  -  235 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

Battles  of  Arlclow  and  New  Ross. — Massacres  at  Scullabogue  and  Wexford. — The 
Armies  converging. — Sir  John  Moore  defeats  the  Insurgents  near  Wexford.— Battle 
of  Vinegar  Hill,  -  --  --  --  --  --  --  -  245 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

Guerilla  Fighting  kept  up  in  the  Mountains. — Warlike  Character  of  the  Irish. — Causes 
of  the  Failure  of  the  Rebellion. — The  Want  of  able  Officers. — Death  of  Fitzgerald. — 
Desolations  of  the  War,  -----------  -  -255 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

New  French  Expedition.— Humbert  sails  without  Orders.— Lands  at  Killala  in  the  North 
of  Ireland. — Takes  Possession  of  the  Town. — Is  quartered  in  the  Bishop’s  Palace. — 
Character  of  his  Army. — Marches  on  Castlebar,  and  defeats  General  Lake. — Surren¬ 
ders  to  Cornwallis,  --------------  263 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


Last  Expedition  of  Tone.— Captured  in  a  Naval  Engagement.— Trial  before  a  Court 
Martial.— Curran’s  Efforts  to  save  him. — Sentence.— Last  Letter  to  his  Wife. — Deuth,  271 


viii 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 

Lord  Cornwallis. — Fate  of  the  State  Prisoners.— Compromise  proposed  by  Govern¬ 
ment. — Examination  before  a  Secret.  Committee — Mitigations  of  Captivity. — Emmet’s 
Wife  and  Sister. — The  Prisoners  are  sent  to  Fort  George  in  Scotland. — Liberated  at 
the  Peace  of  Amiens,  -  --  --  --  --  --  --  282 


CHAPTER  XXVI. 

Sampson  is  liberated  from  Prison  on  Condition  of  going  into  Exile. — Sails  for  Portu¬ 
gal. — Shipwrecked. — Reachos  Oporto. — Is  seized  aud  imprisoned. — Sent  to  Lisbon. — 
Thrown  into  the  Dungeons  of  the  Inquisition. — Is  sent  to  Bordeaux. — Takes  up  his 
residence  in  Paris,  -  --  --  --  --  --  --  -  296 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

The  Union. — Proposal  to  abolish  the  Irish  Parliament. — Designs  of  Pitt  and  Castle- 
reagh. — Excuses  to  justify  tho  Measure. — England  in  Danger. — Union  carried  by 
Bribery. — Promises  violated. — The  Prosperity  of  Ireland  declines. — Absenteeism  of 
Noblemen. — Effect  on  the  Spirits  of  the  People. — The  Irish  Orators. — Lament  of  Grat¬ 
tan. — Melancholy  of  Curran,  ------------  305 

CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Robert  Emmet. — College  Eloquence. — Visits  Paris  after  the  Treaty  of  Amiens. — Rotums 
to  Ireland.— Embarks  in  the  Conspiracy. — The  Insurrection  takes  Place  at  Night. — Is 
instantly  suppressed. — Emmet  lingers  near  Dublin. — Is  arrested. — Speech  on  his 
Trial. — Sentenced  to  Death. — Farewell  Letters. — His  Execution. — The  Broken  Heart,  314 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

The  Exiles  on  the  Continent. — They  como  to  America. — Fate  of  Tone’s  Family. — His 
Widow  remains  in  Paris. — Her  Son  studies  at  the  University. — Joins  the  Army. — 
Serves  in  the  Campaigns  of  1813  and  1814. — Wounded  at  the  Battle  of  Leipsic.— 
Siege  of  Erfurt. — Quits  the  Army  on  the  Fall  of  Napoleon. — The  Family  remove  to 
the  United  States,  and  settle  in  Washington,  -  --  --  --  -  324 


CHAPTER  XXX. 

Career  of  Emmet  in  America. — Is  admitted  to  the  Bar. — Immediate  Succoss. — Charac¬ 
ter  of  his  Eloquence. — Appears  before  the  Supremo  Court  of  the  United  States. — 
Described  by  Judge  Story. — Private  Life. — Stroke  of  Apoplexy  in  Court.— His  Death,  331 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 

Dr.  McNeven  settles  in  New  York. — Chosen  a  Professor. — Marries  an  American  Lady. — 
Efforts  for  Irish  Emigrants.— Sampson  resumes  the  Practice  of  Law.— Friendship  of 
the  Exiles. — Their  Families  connected  by  Marriage. — Death  of  Sampson  and 
McNeven— They  are  buried  side  by  side,  -  --  --  --  --  342 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 

A  last  Look  at  Ireland.— Sad  Aspects. — The  late  Famine. — Bright  Spots  here  and  there. — 
Emancipation  of  the  Catholics. — The  Established  Church.— Grant  to  Maynooth.— The 
Queen’s  Colleges.— Old  Parties  broken  up. — The  Orangemen.— No  more  Repeal. — 

Sale  of  encumbered  Estates. — Tenant  Right. — Elasticity  of  the  Irish  Character. — 
National  Faults  and  Virtues. — Warm  Affections. — The  Irish  Emigrant— Welcome  to 
America.— Hope  of  better  Days,  -  --  --  --  --  --  351 


$  r  t  f  a  r  t. 


A  visit  to  Ireland  in  the  siunmer  of  1847  won  my 
heart  for  that  country  and  people.  Vague  impressions 
of  the  tierce  rebellion  of  1798,  and  especially  the  fate  of 
Robert  Emmet,  drew  my  thoughts  to  that  portion  of  her 
history.  But  it  was  not  until  I  came  to  know  the  families 
of  the  Irish  exiles  in  New  York  that  I  learned  the  partic¬ 
ulars  of  that  eventful  struggle. 

The  subject  was  new  to  me,  and  perhaps  will  be  to 
many.  If  I  mistake  not,  the  history  of  Ireland  is  not  gen¬ 
erally  known.  Many  who  are  well  read  on  every  part 
of  English,  and  even  of  Scottish  history,  seem  little  in¬ 
formed  on  that  of  the  sister  island.  The  border  wars  be¬ 
tween  England  and  Scotland  have  been  invested  with 
every  charm  of  poetry  and  romance,  while  the  far  longer 
and  deadlier  resistance  of  the  Irish  to  their  conquerors, 
fills  but  a  paragraph  in  the  general  history  of  Britain.  It 
is  hardly  remembered  that  Ireland  was  once  a  distinct  na¬ 
tion,  and  that  she  has  a  separate  history.  Of  these  civil 
wars  that  of  1798  was  the  last,  and  possesses  the  freshest 
interest. 

The  novelty  of  the  story — the  distinguished  actors  who 

A* 


X 


PREFACE. 


figured  in  it — and  the  tragical  fate  which  so  often  termi¬ 
nated  the  career  of  the  young  and  the  brave — riveted  my 
attention,  and  led  me  to  think  that  a  connected  narrative 
of  these  events  might  possess  interest  to  others. 

The  struggle  for  Irish  independence — which  began 
during  the  American  war,  and  closed  with  the  Union  in 
1800 — is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  passages  of  modem 
history.  It  has  been  thrown  into  the  shade  by  the  co¬ 
temporary  French  Eevolution.  But  the  war  of  factions, 
and  the  Rebellion,  in  Ireland,  was  one  in  that  series  of 
convulsions  which  then  agitated  Europe.  It  has  all  the 
interest  of  a  great  battle  for  liberty.  It  was  a  contest  car¬ 
ried  on  for  more  than  twenty  years  between  the  passion 
for  freedom  on  one  hand,  and  arbitrary  power  on  the 
other,  a  contest  finally  ending  in  civil  war.  It  was  a 
period  of  military  atrocities — yet  resisted  and  set  in  con¬ 
trast  by  individual  heroism  and  popular  enthusiasm — by 
eloquence  in  debate  and  courage  in  the  field — a  period,  in 
short,  like  all  revolutionary  epochs,  distinguished  by  great 
virtues  and  great  crimes.  The  spectacle  is  full  of  excite¬ 
ment — a  nation  rising  from  the  torpor  of  ages,  and  “shout¬ 
ing  to  the  earth” — -the  old  chieftains,  that  have  long  held 
the  fortress  of  power,  alarmed  and  training  their  guns  on 
the  advancing  masses — the  people  defeated  and  driven 
back,  yet  returning  with  new  vigor  to  the  conflict.  The 
events  are  all  closely  connected,  and  are  in  continual  pro¬ 
gress.  They  succeed  each  other  regularly  like  the  acts  of  a 
drama.  The  interest  heightens  at  every  succeeding  act.  We 
shall  see  how  a  peaceful  movement  for  reform  grew  into  an 
agitation  for  revolution ;  how  an  open  political  association 


PREFACE. 


xi 

darkened  into  a  secret  conspiracy  ;  how  entreaties  spurned 
changed  to  angry  menaces,  and  threats  ended  in  blood. 
The  whole  has  its  catastrophe  in  the  rebellion  of  1798. 

The  progress  of  this  story  brings  into  view  every  vari¬ 
ety  of  incident.  Now  armed  battalions  move  across  the 
field  in  brilliant  array — and  now  we  follow  peasants  in 
their  hiding-places  among  the  hills.  At  one  moment  we 
are  in  the  heat  of  battle — and  then  alone  on  the  field  at 
night,  listening  to  the  wail  of  a  mother  over  her  son. 
Now  the  narrative  leads  us  to  the  floor  of  Parliament, 
watching  till  midnight  the  stormy  debate — then  to  the 
court-room,  where  the  young  and  ardent  patriot  is  on  trial 
for  his  life — and  next  we  see  him,  attended  by  soldiers, 
marching  to  the  place  of  execution  with  slow  step  and 
muffled  drum. 

There  is  not  a  passion  of  our  nature  which  is  not 
awakened  in  reading  this  history — pity,  grief,  indignation ; 
anger  at  the  treachery  of  some,  admiration  at  the  fidelity 
of  others.  The  melancholy  fate  of  so  many  brave  men, 
the  sufferings  and  courage  of  the  peasantry,  the  pathetic 
eloquence  of  the  Irish  orators — all  lend  a  painful  interest 
to  the  events  we  have  to  relate. 

It  is  a  sad  story.  Yet  Ave  are  fascinated  even  in  these 
dark  scenes  by  traits  of  the  Irish  character,  which  con¬ 
stantly  break  through  the  adversities  of  their  condition, 

“  Like  skies  that  rain  and  lighten,” 

by  incessant  flashes  covering  the  darkened  heaven  Avith 
brightness.  The  record  of  so  much  suffering  is  relieved 
by  the  mixture  of  much  that  is  honorable  to  our  nature. 


XU 


PREFACE. 


These  scenes  have  an  additional  interest  to  ns  from  the 
fact,  that  several  of  the  principal  actors  in  them  were 
afterward  cast  upon  our  shores.  At  first  I  thought  only 
to  write  brief  memoirs  of  the  Irish  exiles,  but  this  soon 
ran  into  a  general  history  of  the  revolutionary  scenes  in 
which  they  bore  a  part.  It  therefore  seemed  best  to  make 
the  design  of  this  volume  more  complete ;  to  embrace  in 
it  the  origin  and  course  of  that  projected  revolution  in 
which  they  were  actors.  The  subject  is  a  historical  unity  : 
the  events  of  this  period  are  so  connected — the  subject  is 
so  compact  that  it  may  be  viewed  apart.  It  forms  a  dis¬ 
tinct  chapter  in  Irish  history.  I  however  so  far  adhere  to 
the  original  design  as  to  detail  with  particular  minuteness 
the  part  borne  by  these  illustrious  exiles.  They  are  the 
heroes  of  the  story.  It  is  often  by  following  the  fortunes 
of  an  individual  that  we  obtain  the  most  graphic  picture 
of  a  historical  period.  As  the  American  reader  may  feel 
particular  interest  in  their  fate,  I  have  glanced  rapidly  at 
their  history  after  they  left  their  country  and  settled  in 
ours.  It  is  pleasant  after  scenes  of  strife  and  blood,  to 
contemplate  a  picture  of  repose.  It  furnishes  that  relief  to 
the  eye  which  artists  seek  in  painting.  It  affords  that  ex¬ 
quisite  satisfaction  to  the  moral  feelings,  which  is  the 
highest  pleasure  in  history. 

The  materials  of  this  history  are  scattered  through 
many  volumes,  and  mixed  up  with  masses  of  merely  local 
or  temporary  interest.  To  sift  huge  octavos  down  to  a 
few  material  facts,  and  to  cast  aside  the  party  rancor  with 
which  every  page  of  Irish  history  is  disfigured,  has  been 
the  labor  of  many  months.  The  object  has  been  to 


PREFACE. 


xiii 

glean  from  this  wide  field  such  details  as  might  he  of  per¬ 
manent  historical  value,  and  to  weave  them  into  a  con¬ 
nected  tale. 

It  has  been  my  care  to  make  this  narrative  strictly  ac¬ 
curate;  to  introduce  no  feature  into  the  scene  for  effect 
which  was  not  authentic  history.  This  has  made  it  neces¬ 
sary  to  compare  the  different  historians  of  that  time. 

Many  personal  incidents  have  been  communicated  by 
the  families  of  the  Irish  exiles.  The  reader  will  miss  the 
vivacity  which  gave  to  each  anecdote  its  charm  in  the  re¬ 
lation.  But  I  beg  him  to  imagine  that  he  is  sitting  before 
a  blazing  fire  on  a  winter’s  night,  listening  to  Irish  melo¬ 
dies,  and  in  the  intervals,  that  he  hears  these  brief  chap¬ 
ters  recited  by  a  fair  reader,  and  with  a  pleasant  voice. 


New  York,  Feb.  1851. 


— — - . - 


Castlt 


i&athvifly 


ihrims 


'Crai&fw 


Lciohlitt 


CooUjratiey 


Royal  Of, 


'town. 

\rS 


oresBt  ■ 


CorrioriAO/ 

ffiu, 


'\Oidart- 


/(JIcLjRoss 


7  y&y 

'  oScldlabc 


jroadwav 


Dujis^' 


qTJDie  _o 

SEAIofREBELLION 

tv-t"  I.\  17!)!',  77  , 


HARPER  &  BROTHERS  .  NEW  YORK, 


Cjje  Hrisjj  Cnttfrtorata  unit  jUkllinti. 


CHAPTER  I. 


A  Glance  at  Irish  History. 

The  Irish  claim  to  be  a  very  ancient  people.  How 
long  the  island  lay  uninhabited — at  what  time  man  first 
set  foot  upon  its  silent  shores — are  matters  of  conjecture. 
Probably  the  same  Celtic  wave,  which,  at  a  remote  period 
of  time,  swept  across  Europe,  and  inundated  Britain, 
reached  Ireland.  But  these  aborigines  of  the  island  were 
half-naked  savages,  with  long  hair  and  of  ferocious  aspect, 
and  belted  with  skins.  They  lived  in  rude  huts,  and  sub¬ 
sisted  on  acorns,  or  by  hunting  and  fishing.  Society  was 
in  its  rudest  state.  Divided  into  clans,  they  acknowledged 
the  sovereignty  of  petty  chiefs.  Their  religion,  like  that 
of  the  ancient  Britons,  was  that  of  the  Druids. 

But  the  Irish  historians  are  fond  of  tracing  their  origin 
to  a  more  civilized  people.  The  Phenicians,  the  maritime 
adventurers  of  antiquity — so  run  their  ancient  chronicles 
— sailing  westward,  founded  Carthage,  and  planted  other 
colonies  along  the  coast  of  Africa  and  in  Spain,  and  from 
thence  crossed  to  Ireland,  the  outer  limit  of  the  then 


16 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


known  world.  Traces  of  this  Asiatic  origin  yet  remain  in 
the  land.  The  round  towers,  wkicli  still  stand  like  soli¬ 
tary  columns  in  lier  valleys,  were  erected  at  a  period  be¬ 
yond  tlie  reach  of  history,  and  are  believed  to  have  been 
reared  for  the  worship  of  the  sun.  The  feastings  and 
cries  of  the  peasantry  at  funerals — the  Irish  wakes — is  a 
custom  which  carries  us  back  directly  to  the  East. 

Even  thus  early,  portions  of  the  country  were  inhabited 
by  a  powerful  race.  The  Irish  trace  far  back  into  this 
period  the  line  of  their  kings.  “  Remember,”  says  Ossian, 
“  the  kings  of  Erin ;  the  stately  forms  of  old.  Let  not 
the  fallen  be  forgot,  they  were  mighty  in  the  field.” 

But  the  island  was  but  partially  reclaimed  by  these 
bands  of  adventurers.  The  country  itself  was  still  a 
wilderness,  a  wild  waste  of  lakes  and  mountains,  of  bogs 
and  moors.  The  aboriginal  savages  still  roamed  through 
interminable  forests.  Bears  had  their  dens  in  rocky  cav¬ 
erns.  The  wolf  came  down  to  drink  of  her  mountain 
lakes,  and  the  deer  slept  in  his  covert  unscared  by  the  cry 
of  the  hunter.  Wild  fowl  haunted  her  inland  waters,  and 
the  eagle  sailed  along  her  northern  rocky  shores.  The 
island  lay  in  the  solitude  of  nature. 

At  length  came  Christianity,  the  true  civilizer  of  na¬ 
tions.  A  holy  man  landed  on  the  shores  of  Ireland.  The 
life  of  St.  Patrick  is  enveloped  in  some  degree  of  obscu¬ 
rity,  and  perhaps  looms  up  large  in  the  twilight  of  tradi¬ 
tion.  Still  there  seems  no  reason  to  doubt  that  there  was 
such  a  man,  who  came  over  the  sea  in  the  fifth  century, 
and  devoted  himself  to  the  conversion  of  the  poor  island¬ 
ers.  He  gathered  them  in  the  open  fields  or  under  the 


ST.  PATRICK. 


17 


shade  of  an  aged  oak,  at  the  sound  of  a  drum,*  and 
preached  to  them  the  gospel.  The  savages  sat  at  his  feet 
in  mute  wonder  as  he  related  the  story  of  the  cross.  They 
were  won  by  his  mildness,  and  awed  by  the  sanctity  of  his 
life.  And  chiefs  and  vassals  together  embraced  the  new 
religion. 

Then  rose  churches  and  abbeys  in  many  a  sequestered 
valley  of  Ireland.  Then  were  the  hill-sides  pressed 
by  pious  feet.  The  convent  bell  rang  across  the  vale. 
Monasteries  crowned  many  a  hill,  which  were  the  reposi¬ 
tories  at  once  of  learning  and  of  Christianity.  From  the 
sixth  to  the  eighth  century,  Ireland  was  confessedly  in  ad¬ 
vance  of  England  in  civilization  and  in  piety.  Hither 
came  the  great  Alfred  to  obtain  that  learning  which  his 
own  kingdom  could  not  afford.  Irish  missionaries  propa¬ 
gated  the  gospel  in  the  surrounding  nations.  To  Ireland 
the  Anglo-Saxon  king  Oswald  applied  for  learned  men  to 
teach  his  people  Christianity.  An  Irish  monk,  Columba, 
founded  the  monastery  in  the  sacred  island  of  Iona, 
“  which  was  once  the  luminary  of  the  Caledonian  regions, 
whence  savage  clans  and  roving  barbarians  derived  the 
benefits  of  knowledge  and  the  blessings  of  religion.”f 

The  Irish  chieftains  derived  wealth  and  power  from 
the  civilization  of  their  people,  and  began  to  assume  a 
rude,  barbaric  splendor.  Lofty  castles  rose  in  which  the 
bards  of  Erin,  like  those  of  Wales,  sung  of  the  deeds  of 
their  ancestors,  and  the  harp  was  heard  in  the  halls  of 
Tara. 

*  Neander’s  History  of  the  Church. 

t  Johnson’s  Tour  to  the  Hebrides, 


18 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


Tlie  Irish  still  linger  with  fondness  on  the  traditions 
of  ancient  days.  It  is  natural  for  an  imaginative  and 
high-spirited  people — crushed  by  superior  power — to  try 
to  forget  their  present  wretchedness  in  the  recollection  of 
ancient  glory.  The  Greek  and  the  Italian,  fallen,  have 
never  forgotten  their  former  name.  In  twenty  centuries 
the  intense  life  of  the  ancient  races  has  not  become  extinct. 
“  Still  in  their  ashes  live  their  wonted  fires.”  So  the  tra¬ 
ditional  glories  of  Ireland  give  a  charm  to  her  hills  and 
valleys.  The  songs  of  her  ancient  bards  linger  on  the  air, 
fainter  and  fainter,  yet  still  more  sweet,  like  the  sound  of 
bells  dying  away  in  the  distance.* 

The  pressure  of  Asiatic  nations  upon  the  tribes  of 
Eastern  and  Northern  Europe,  precipitated  the  barbarians 
of  Scandinavia  upon  the  Roman  Empire.  The  same  vast 
migration  of  nations  forced  some  of  the  Germanic  tribes 
to  the  West.  The  Saxons  landed  in  England,  but  seem 
not  to  have  invaded  Ireland.  Not  so  easily  did  she  escape 
the  visit  of' “the  rugged  Dane.”  Sheltered  behind  Eng¬ 
land  and  Scotland,  she  felt  not  the  first  shock  of  inva¬ 
sion.  But  the  bold  sea-kings  at  length  passed  the  Ork¬ 
neys,  and  turned  their  prows  to  the  south.  They  sailed 
by  the  stormy  Hebrides,  and  found  a  larger  and  more 
beautiful  island.  These  intrepid  navigators  have  left  their 
footprints  along  the  coast.  Dublin  is  a  Danish  city. 
They  retained  their  power  in  Ireland  for  two  hundred 
years. 

*  Whoever  is  curious  in  such  matters  will  find  the  subject  of  Irish  An¬ 
tiquities  treated  at  great  length  in  Moore’s  History  of  Ireland. 


ENGLISH  INVASION. 


19 


Scarcely  were  the  Danes  expelled  before  another  in¬ 
vader  came,  whose  hand  is  still  upon  the  land.  In  1170 
the  Anglo-Norman  first  set  foot  upon  these  shores. 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that  the  invasion  of  Ireland  was 
undertaken  by  the  English  to  extend  the  authority  of  the 
Pope. 

The  primitive  churches  of  Ireland  were  remarkably 
pure.  Remote  from  the  center  of  Catholic  Christendom, 
they  were  little  affected  by  the  corruptions  of  the  Church 
of  Rome.  They  cared  little  for  festivals  and  splendid 
ceremonies,  “only  preaching,”  says  the  venerable  Bede, 
“  such  works  of  charity  and  piety  as  they  could  learn  from 
the  prophetical,  evangelical  and  apostolical  writings.” 
They  acknowledged  no  allegiance  to  the  Pope.  Indeed 
their  churches  could  hardly  be  called  Episcopal,  for  though 
they  had  bishops  their  clergy  were  all  equal.  There  was  a 
bishop  to  every  parish.  But  he  assumed  no  lordly  pre¬ 
rogatives  nor  splendor.  He  was  poor  like  the  people 
whom  he  instructed.  This  fact  may  conciliate  the  regards 
of  Protestants  towards  that  unhappy  country. 

In  1154,  the  same  year  that  Henry  II.  ascended  the 
throne  of  England,  Nicholas  Breakspear,  the  only  Eng¬ 
lishman  that  ever  filled  the  Papal  chair,  became  Pope 
under  the  title  of  Adrian  IY.  Eager  to  extend  his  sway 
over  all  the  British  Islands,  he  issued  a  commission  to 
Henry  II.  giving  him  authority  to  subdue  Ireland  to  the 
Catholic  faith.  He  Avas  to  pay  to  the  Pope  the  tribute  of 
a  penny  for  each  house,  and  on  this  sole  condition  was  at 
liberty  to  establish  himself  as  monarch  of  that  country. 

This  fact  Catholic  and  Protestant  historians  have  com- 


20 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


bined  to  suppress,  tliougb  for  very  different  reasons.  The 
Catholics  did  not  like  to  admit  that  they  had  been  be¬ 
trayed  by  their  Holy  Father,  nor  the  Protestants  of  Eng¬ 
land  that  to  the  gift  of  their  great  enemy  they  owed  their 
only  title  to  Ireland.  True,  several  years  after  the  Pope’s 
commission,  the  English  were  invited  over,  as  the  Saxons 
had  been  invited  into  England,  to  aid  in  settling  a  civil 
dispute,  which  gave  another  pretext  for  invasion.  But 
they  brought  the  commission  of  the  Pope  as  their  title  to 
the  land.  The  army  under  Strongbow,  which  landed  in 
the  south  of  Ireland,  was  a  band  of  crusaders,  marching 
under  the  banner  of  religion.  So  that,  when  English 
Protestants  lament  the  obstinate  adherence  of  the  Irish  to 
the  Church  of  Route,  they  may  thank  themselves  for 
teaching  them  the  lesson  which  they  have  learned  so  well. 


CHAPTER  II. 

W  hy  the  Irish  hate  the  English. — Ireland  a  Conquered  Country. — 
No  Fusion  of  Races. 

It  is  easy  to  understand  the  bitterness  -which  exists 
between  the  Irish  and  the  English.  Ireland  is  a  conquered 
country.  To  reconcile  a  nation  to  new  masters  several 
generations  must  elapse.  The  wounded  pride  of  a  van¬ 
quished  race  can  be  healed  only  by  time,  and  the  most 
conciliating  policy. 

But  this  fact  alone  does  not  explain  the  long-continued 
animosity.  If  Ireland  was  a  conquered  country,  so  was 
Scotland;  so  was  Wales;  so  was  England  herself.  But 
in  all  these  instances  there  was  a  gradual  fusion  of  races. 
The  victorious  invaders  gradually  melted  down  into  the 
mass  of  the  nation.  Thus  the  fair-haired  daughters  of  the 
Saxons  won  the  hearts  of  their  Norman  lords ;  and  woman’s 
charms  effected  what  could  not  have  been  effected  by 
centuries  of  wars.  Thus  in  all  the  invasions  of  England. 
Ancient  Britons,  Saxons,  Danes,  and  Normans,  ran  to¬ 
gether,  and  have  made  that  composite  race,  which  is  now 
the  noblest  in  the  world. 

In  Scotland  and  Wales  the  English  at  first  encountered 
the  same  hostility  as  in  Ireland.  For  hundreds  of  years 


22 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


the  name  of  the  Saxon  was  as  bitterly  hated  among  the 
Highlands,  and  the  Welsh  mountains,  as  across  the  chan¬ 
nel.  But  these  were  parts  of  one  island,  and  the  waves 
of  population  gradually  flowed  together.  Ireland  was  a 
distinct  country,  and  could  be  Anglicized  more  slowly. 
Of  a  proud  race,  and  inflamed  with  ideas  of  the  an¬ 
cient  glory  of  his  country,  the  Celt  stood  apart  from  his 
foreign  masters.  But  time  heals  all  wounds.  The  blood 
shed  in  battle  sinks  into  the  earth ;  the  grass  grows  green 
over  the  slain ;  and  ancient  feuds  and  wars  at  last  die  out 
from  the  memory  of  men.  Here  time  would  have  brought 
oblivion  and  reconciliation,  if  continued  oppression  and 
cruelty  had  not  kept  the  wounds  fresh  and  bleeding.  The 
most  woful  blunder  ever  committed  in  the  long  mis- 
government  of  Ireland,  was  the  laws  early  passed  prohib¬ 
iting  marriages  between  the  English  and  the  native  Irish, 
■ — even  making  it  an  act  of  high  treason.  This  rendered 
the  evil  incurable.  The  two  races,  naturally  jealous  of 
each  other,  were  thus  forced  asunder.  The  nation  was 
divided  into  a  dominant  and  a  servile  class;  between 
whom  there  must  be  forever  jealousy,  hatred,  and  often 
civil  war. 

Had  the  Normans,  at  the  period  of  their  conquest, 
prohibited  marriages  with  the  Saxons,  the  same  bitterness 
would  have  been  entailed  upon  England.  The  two  races 
would  never  have  coalesced.  The  animosity  of  slaves  to 
their  masters  would  have  descended  from  generation  to 
generation.  The  history  of  England  would  have  been 
little  more  than  a  succession  of  wars  between  two  races  as 
utterly  apart,  and  as  deadly  hostile,  as  the  Spaniard  and 


NO  FUSION  OF  RACES. 


23 


the  Moor.  Had  the  same  barbarous  laws  been  passed  in 
Wales  and  Scotland,  to  render  impossible  a  mixture  of  the 
subjugated  people  with  their  masters,  the  English  would 
have  been  as  cordially  detested  in  those  countries  to  this 
day  as  they  are  in  Ireland.  It  was  the  interest  of  England 
to  make  the  hereditary  divisions  in  her  mixed  people 
disappear  as  fast  as  possible,  and  to  fuse  the  whole  popula¬ 
tion  of  the  British  islands  into  one  nation.  But  these 
laws  rendered  the  line  of  division  indelible.  They 
branded  the  greater  part  of  the  nation  as  a  subjugated 
people,  and  compelled  the  English  to  stand  always  in 
the  attitude  of  invaders,  clad  in  mail,  and  with  arms  in 
their  hands.  The  Irish  remained  a  distinct  people,  almost 
as  much  as  the  Jews,  and  with  the  hereditary  sense  of 
injustice  which  marks  that  stricken  race.  The  English, 
continued  aliens  in  the  land,  aliens  by  blood,  by  language, 
and  by  religion.  Thus  the  two  races  remained  apart,  the 
one  to  cherish  an  inextinguishable  sense  of  wrong,  and 
hatred  of  their  oppressors,  and  the  other  a  bitterness 
against  the  poor  people  whose  spirit  of  resistance  they 
could  not  break. 

In  Scotland  great  social  inequalities  existed,  but  the 
organization  of  the  Highland  clans  gave  the  serf  an 
interest  in  the  favor  of  his  lord.  The  clansman  felt  a 
pride  in  the  success  of  his  chieftain.  He  followed  him  to 
the  war  and  to  the  chase,  and  in  return  received  his 
powerful  protection.  Sometimes  he  shared  his  hospitality. 
The  bagpipe  was  heard  in  the  castle  grounds,  and  rude 
Highlanders  in  their  tartans  danced  on  the  green  sward, 
and  then  ate  and  drank  at  their  chiefs  expense.  These 


24 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


friendly  customs,  which  were  remnants  of  feudal  times, 
softened  tlie  rigor  of  tire  peasant’s  lot,  and  made  tlie 
relation  between  him  and  bis  superior  one  of  affection. 

33  ut  in  Ireland  tbe  lord  and  the  peasant  were  of  different 
races,  and  had  no  feelings  in  common.  The  landlord  did 
not  deign  to  speak  to  the  laborer.  The  peasant  did  not 
dare  to  address  his  master.  They  remained  sullenly  apart, 
the  one  in  his  palace,  the  other  in  his  hovel.  As  there 
was  no  duty  of  protection  on  the  one  side,  there  was  no 
gratitude  or  allegiance  on  the  other.  Such  persevering 
misgovernment  arose  in  part  from  ignorance  of  the  Irish 
character. 

For  six  hundred  years  the  English  have  been  masters 
of  Ireland,  and  yet  they  have  not  understood  the  people 
of  that  country.  The  intense  self-consciousness,  the  in¬ 
domitable  pride  and  will  of  an  Englishman,  prevent  him 
from  entering  into  the  feelings  of  one  differently  constitu¬ 
ted  from  himself.  They  have  regarded  the  natives  of 
Ireland  as  a  turbulent,  half-barbarous  people,  that  must  be 
awed  by  harsh  government.  A  more  ignorant  and  suicidal 
policy  could  not  be  devised.  A  Frenchman  is  not  more 
unlike  an  Anglo-Saxon  than  is  an  Irishman.  Like  the 
Highlanders,  and  all  Celtic  nations,  the  Irish  are  a  chival¬ 
rous,  proud,  and  high-spirited  people.  They  can  not  be 
cowed  by  severity.  Oppression  but  exasperates  them  and 
renders  them  more  ungovernable.  They  can  not  be  so 
tamed.  On  the  other  hand,  they  have  warm  hearts,  and 
might  easily  be  conciliated  by  kindness.  If  the  English 
could  stoop  to  conciliation,  they  would  not  find  a  more 
grateful  and  loyal  people  in  all  their  dominions. 


POLICY  OP  EXTERMINATION. 


25 


But  tlie  policy  early  adopted  in  Ireland  was  that  often 
pursued  by  civilized  nations,  who  have  conquered  savage 
tribes ;  presenting  only  the  alternative  of  slavery  or  ex¬ 
termination.  At  first  the  English  rule  was  confined  to  a 
portion  of  the  island,  called  the  Pale.  But  as  they  extend¬ 
ed  their  explorations,  they  found  that  it  was  all  a  goodly 
land,  worthy  of  conquest  and  pillage.  The  English  knight, 

I  pricking  over  the  hills  of  Connaught  and  Munster,  reined 
in  his  horse  on  the  heights  to  look  down  on  the  broad 
lands,  and  noble  bays  and  rivers  at  his  feet.  Sir  John 
Davies  wrote  home: — “I  have  visited  all  the  provinces  of 
that  kingdom,  in  sundry  journeys  and  circuits,  wherein  I 
have  observed  the  good  temperature  of  the  ayre,  the  fruit¬ 
fulness  of  the  soyle,  the  pleasant  and  commodious  seats  for 
habitation,  the  safe  and  large  ports  and  havens,  lying  open 
for  traffickc  into  all  west  parts  of  the  world ;  the  long  inlets 
of  many  navigable  rivers,  and  so  many  great  lakes  and 
fresh  ponds  within  the  lands,  as  the  like  are  not  to  be  seene 
in  any  part  of  Europe ;  the  rich  fishings  and  wild  fowle 
of  all  kinds;  and  lastly,  the  bodies  and  minds  of  the 
people,  endued  with  extraordinary  abilities  of  nature.” 

Such  was  the  prize  offered  to  English  cupidity.  It  was 
an  age  of  brilliant  conquest.  Cortez  had  subdued  the 
proud  Mexican  monarchy.  Pizarro  had  added  Peru,  a 
land  of  gems  and  gold,  to  the  vast  dominions  of  Spain. 
Anti  now  Elizabeth  proposed  the  complete  subjugation  of 
Ireland.  The  policy  adopted  was  as  unsparing  and  re¬ 
lentless  as  that  of  Cortez  in  Mexico.  But  the  Briton  found 
in  the  Celt  a  haughtier  foe  than  the  Spaniard  found  in  the 
Mexican.  The  Irish  were  often  vanquished  in  battle,  but 

B 


26 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


never  subdued.  It  was  then  proposed  to  exterminate  the 
people  by  laying  waste  the  country.  Burning  and  mas-  I 
sacre  devastated  the  land.  The  flames,  set  to  fields  of 
waving  grain,  consumed  the  food  of  the  people.  Famine 
completed  the  havoc  which  war  had  begun.  Then  ensued 
a  scene  of  woe,  only  equaled  by  the  ravages  of  Hyder 
Ali  in  the  Carnatic.  “  Ho  spectacle,”  says  Morrison,  “was  ! 
more  frequent  in  the  ditches  of  towns,  and  especially  in 
wasted  counties,  than  to  see  multitudes  of  these  poor 
people  dead,  with  their  mouths  all  colored  green  by  eating 
nettles,  docks,  and  all  things  they  could  rend  up  above 
ground.” 

It  seems  too  much  to  impute  to  England  the  deliberate 
design  of  exterminating  a  whole  nation.  But  long  enmity 
and  cruel  wars  had  so  imbittered  the  English  against  the 
Irish,  that  they  were  hardly  sensible  of  the  barbarity  of 
their  conduct.  Even  the  gentle  poet  Spenser  applauds  the 
success  of  this  policy,  and  recommends  that  the  country  be 
still  kept  waste,  so  that  gradually  it  may  be  depopulated. 

“  The  land  being  thus  kept  from  manurance,  and  their 
cattle  from  running  abroad,  by  this  hard  restraint,  they 
would  quietly  consume  themselves,  and  devour  one  an¬ 
other  ;  the  proof  whereof  I  saw  sufficiently  in  those  late 
wars  of  Munster,  for  notwithstanding  that  the  same  was  a 
most  rich  and  plentiful  country,  full  of  corn  and  cattle,  ■ 
that  you  would  have  thought  they  would  have  been  able 
to  stand  long,  yet  in  one  year  and  a  half  they  were  ( 
brought  to  such  wretchedness  as  that  any  stoney  heart 
would  have  rued  the  same.  Out  of  every  corner  of  the 
woods  and  glynnes  they  came  creeping  forth  upon  their 


SEVERITIES  OF  CROMWELL. 


27 


hands,  for  their  legges  could  not  bear  them.  They  looked 
like  anatomies  of  death  ;  they  spake  like  ghosts  crying  out 
of  their  graves ;  they  eat  the  dead  carrions,  happy  where 
they  could  find  them ;  yea,  and  one  another  soon  after, 
insomuch  as  the  very  carcasses  they  spared  not  to  scrape 
out  of  their  graves ;  and  if  they  found  a  plot  of  water- 
cresses  or  shamrocks,  to  these  they  flocked  as  to  a  feast  for 
the  time,  yet  not  able  to  continue  therewithall ;  that  in 
a  short  space  there  were  none  almost  left,  and  a  most 
populous  country  suddenly  left  void  of  man  and  beast.” 

During  the  bitter  wars  of  the  time  of  Charles  I.,  no 
matter  which  party  got  the  upper  hand,  the  Irish  were 
fated  to  suffer.  They  suffered  from  the  duplicity  of 
Charles,  and  they  were  crushed  under  the  iron  hand  of 
Cromwell.  The  Irish  were  devoted  to  the  house  of  Stuart, 
and  stood  by  them  in  all  their  misfortunes.  But  this 
wretched  family  repaid  their  devotion  with  the  basest 
treachery.  Charles  I.,  and  James  II.,  while  looking  to  the 
Irish  for  support,  and  for  the  maintenance  of  their  thrones, 
were  both  playing  a  double  game.  The  Irish  were  the 
most  faithful  supporters  of  the  house  of  Stuart,  and  that 
house  abandoned  them  to  ruin.  It  found,  when  too  late, 
that  in  this  treachery  it  had  ruined  itself. 

Cromwell  came  to  Ireland  apparently  with  the  feeling 
[.  that  the  country  had  never  been  conquered,  and  deter- 
■  mined  to  finish  the  work.  lie  attacked  Drogheda,  which, 

.  after  an  obstinate  defense,  surrendered  on  promise  of 
quarter.  The  bravery  with  which  the  town  was  defended 
would  have  led  a  generous  foe  to  grant  honorable  terms. 


28 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


But  Cromwell  refused  even  to  ratify  the  agreement  of  his 
officers,  by  which  their  lives  were  to  be  spared.  He 
ordered  the  whole  garrison  to  be  put  to  the  sword.  It  con¬ 
sisted  of  two  thousand  men,  and  the  butchery  occupied 
two  days.  It  was  the  design  of  this  massacre  to  strike 
terror  into  the  hearts  of  the  Irish.  Perhaps,  to  some  ex¬ 
tent,  it  succeeded.  But  it  fixed  the  first  indelible  stain  on 
the  name  of  Oliver  Cromwell.  The  same  horrors  were  re¬ 
peated  at  Wexford.  Cromwell  forbade  his  soldiers  to  give 
quarter. 

Then  did  this  holy  army  take  possession  of  the  coun¬ 
try,  and  comparing  themselves  to  the  Israelites,  and  Ire¬ 
land  to  Canaan,  proceeded  to  distribute  the  promised  land 
among  their  tribes.  Confiscation  followed  confiscation. 
Almost  the  whole  island  changed  hands.  The  best  Irish 
estates  were  distributed  among  the  praying  captains  and 
majors  of  Cromwell’s  army.  Of  the  Irish  who  were  per¬ 
mitted  to  live,  thousands  were  driven  into  the  wilds  of 
Connaught.  The  Roundhead  was  as  unscrupulous  as  the 
Cavalier  in  taking  possession  of  the  Irish  lands.  Both  were 
ready  to  raise  the  cry  of  “  no  popery,”  or  “  the  English 
interest,”  whenever  it  was  necessary  to  secure  them.  In 
the  civil  war  in  Ulster,  in  1641,  Sir  William  Petty  ob¬ 
serves,  “  There  was  now  a  great  game  to  be  played  for  the 
estates  of  the  Irish  proprietors.  Upon  so  great  odds  the 
English  won,  and  have,  besides  other  pretenses,  a  game¬ 
ster’s  right  at  least  to  their  estates,  but  as  for  the  blood  shed 
in  the  contest,  God  alone  knows  who  did  occasion  it.” 

It  is  an  instance  of  those  strange  inconsistencies  which 
meet  us  everywhere  in  history,  that  the  period  when  the 


THE  PURITANS  IN  IRELAND. 


29 


English  people  were  most  clamorous  for  liberty  themselves, 
was  the  period  in  which  they  bore  most  hard  upon  others. 
The  date  of  liberty  in  England  was  the  date  of  oppression 
in  Ireland.  The  Parliament  under  Cromwell  humanely  de¬ 
clared  “that  it  was  not  their  intention  to  extirpate  the 
Irish  nation !”  And  yet  this  same  Parliament,  which  gave 
liberty  to  England,  resolved  in  solemn  debate  by  both 
houses,  “that  they  would  not  consent  to  the  toleration  of 
popery  in  Ireland,  or  any  of  his  majesty’s  dominions,” 
which  was  in  effect  declaring  a  war  of  extermination 
against  seven  eighths  of  the  whole  population  of  that 
country. 

Every  impartial  historian  now  concedes  the  great  ser¬ 
vices  rendered  by  the  Puritans  to  the  cause  of  English  lib¬ 
erty.  But  that  they  were  more  advanced  than  the  rest 
of  their  age,  in  principles  of  toleration,  is  not  so  apparent. 
If  anywhere  on  earth  just  religious  liberty  could  be  found 
at  that  day,  it  should  have  been  in  that  band  of  pilgrims 
who  sought  freedom  to  worship  God  amid  the  forests  of 
this  new  world.  Yet  from  these  shores,  bleak  and  inhos¬ 
pitable,  yet  dear  to  our  fathers,  because  they  afforded  a 
refuge  from  oppression,  went  forth  this  counsel  to  old  Eng¬ 
land:  “I  begge  upon  my  hands  and  knees,  that  the  ex¬ 
pedition  against  them  [the  Irish]  may  be  undertaken  while 
the  hearts  and  hands  of  our  souldiery  are  hot,  to  whom  I 
will  be  bold  to  say  briefly :  happy  is  he  that  shall  reward 
them  as  they  have  served  us,  and  cursed  be  he  that  shall 
do  the  work  of  the  Lord  negligently,  cursed  be  he  that 
holdeth  back  his  sword  from  blood ;  yea,  cursed  be  he  that 
maketh  not  his  sword  starke  drunk  with  Irish  blood,  that 


30 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


doth  not  recompense  them  double  for  their  hellish  treach¬ 
ery  to  the  English,  that  maketh  them  not  heaps  upon 
heaps,  and  then-  country  a  dwelling-place  for  dragons,  an 
astonishment  to  nations :  let  not  that  eye  look  for  pity, 
nor  that  hand  to  be  spared,  that  pities  or  spares  them,  and 
let  him  be  accursed,  that  curseth  not  them  bitterly.”* 

Such  were  the  sentiments  which  national  jealousy  and 
religious  hatred  could  inspire  even  in  the  breasts  of  good 
men.  With  such  messages  came  the  English  to  crush  the 
last  spark  of  liberty  out  of  a  brave  and  unfortunate  people. 
How  different  from  that  gentle  reign  which  Christ  came  to 
establish  on  earth ! 

When  Charles  II.  was  restored  to  his  father’s  throne, 
the  loyal  Irish,  who  had  forfeited  their  estates  for  taking 
up  arms  to  support  his  father,  expected  to  be  reinstated  in 
their  just  possessions.  But  so  far  from  this,  Charles  con¬ 
firmed  the  confiscations  of  Cromwell,  thus  punishing  the 
loyalty  of  his  Irish  subjects.  The  motive  of  this  strange 
act  was  curious.  It  was  that  Cromwell,  though  a  regicide 
in  England,  stood  in  Ireland  as  the  representative  of  the 
English  interest,  and  to  dispute  the  authority  of  England, 
by  Avhomsoever  governed,  was  an  offense  not  to  be  for¬ 
given.  The  whole  aim  was  to  establish  in  Ireland  a  pow¬ 
erful  English  interest.  This  had  a  double  object — to  pre- 


*  The  Simple  Cobbler  of  Aggawam  in  America,  by  Rev.  Nathaniel  Ward. 
This  clergyman  camo  to  this  country  in  1634,  and  was  pastor  of  the  church  at 
Ipswich,  Mass.  He  returned  to  England  in  1646,  and  preached  before  the 
House  of  Commons,  and  published  a  book  with  the  above  quaint  title,  on  the 
political  state  of  England.  It  is  a  book  of  much  wit.  Its  spirit  may  be 
judged  of  from  the  extract  above. 


POLICY  OF  CHARLES  IL 


31 


vent  Ireland  from  becoming  a  commercial  rival,  and  to 
secure  her  close  dependence  upon  England.  It  was  a 

I  scheme  of  bargain  and  plunder  between  England  and  her 
Irish  colony.  To  the  English  residents  in  Ireland  was  granted 
as  their  share  of  the  spoil,  the  internal  government  of  the 
country,  the  broad  lands  of  the  Irish,  and  their  spoliation 
at  home,  while  they  were  to  purchase  the  support  of 
England  by  the  sacrifice  of  national  independence  and  of 
foreign  trade.  British  statesmen  had  already  begun  to  see 
that  Ireland,  if  left  to  herself,  might  become  a  great  power 
on  the  seas.  The  natural  features  of  that  island,  its  deep 
rivers,  and  broad-armed  ports,  pointed  it  out  as  fitted  to  be 
a  great  commercial  country.  The  English  government 
anticipated  this,  and  it  therefore  became  a  settled  policy 
that  Ireland  should  be  systematically  depressed,  to  prevent 
her  becoming  a  rival  of  England.  Thus,  while  the  ships 
of  England  were  crossing  all  oceans,  extending  the  wealth 
and  power  of  their  country,  the  commerce  of  Ireland  was 
subjected  to  restrictions  which  amounted  to  a  virtual  pro¬ 
hibition.  While  English  merchants  were  reaping  the 
wealth  of  the  Indies,  the  Irish  were  left  to  derive  a  scanty 
subsistence  from  digging  the  soil.  In  this,  Ireland  was 
treated  like  the  other  English  colonies,  which  do  not  exist 
at  all  for  themselves,  but  only  to  pour  riches  into  the  lap 
of  the  mother  country.  The  policy  was  successful.  In 
two  hundred  years  it  has  made  England  the  richest  coun¬ 
try  on  earth,  and  Ireland  the  poorest. 

The  Revolution  of  1688  gave  the  English  a  new  excuse 
for  robbery,  for  the  Irish  had  been  faithful  to  the  fallen 


32 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


monarch.  The  course  of  the  Irish  in  this  civil  war  was 
one  of  honor,  though  of  misfortune.  They  defended  James 
II.  bravely  at  the  battle  of  the  Boyne,  and  would  have  car¬ 
ried  the  day  but  for  his  cowardice  and  vacillation.  But 
while  they  were  shedding  their  blood  for  him  on  the  banks 
of  that  stream  which  rolled  red  on  that  terrible  day,  the 
monarch  deserted  them,  and  fled  to  France.  However, 
they  shed  no  tears  for  that.  They  were  heartily  glad  to 
have  him  gone.  “  Change  kings,”  was  their  cry,  “  and  we 
will  fight  the  battle  over  again.”  They  were  then  free  to 
carry  on  the  war  on  their  own  account,  unchecked  by  a 
cowardly  king.  They  retired  behind  the  Shannon,  and 
threw  themselves  into  Athlone  and  Limerick.  William 
advanced  to  attack  them,  and  was  signally  defeated.  The 
next  year  the  great  Marlborough  resumed  the  war  with 
better  success.  The  last  fortress  fell,  and  the  war  was  ended. 
Two  days  after  the  treaty  was  signed,  the  French  appeared 
off  the  coast,  coming,  as  they  have  generally  done,  to  the 
assistance  of  Ireland,  a  little  too  late.  The  glory  of  that 
long  defense  of  their  country  and  their  king,  belongs  to 
the  Irish  alone.  The  fate  of  war  was  against  them,  but 
their  honor,  their  courage,  and  their  fidelity,  had  at  least 
been  maintained,  and  should  have  secured  them  generous 
terms.  Never  had  a  struggle  less  reason  to  be  denounced 
as  a  Rebellion.  They  fought  against  rebellion.  But  the 
pretense  was  eagerly  seized  for  new  confiscations.  Ireland 
was  once  more  a  conquered  country,  and  “  to  the  victors  be¬ 
long  the  spoils.”  William  himself  was  an  enlightened  and 
tolerant  king.  He  wap  carried  away  by  no  furious  hatred 
of  the  Irish,  or  of  their  religion.  The  Prince  of  Orange 


THE  IRISH  FORCED  TO  EMIGRATE. 


33 


was  no  Orangeman,  though  that  persecuting  association 
have  taken  his  name.  But  he  was  overborne  by  the  rapa¬ 
cious  soldiers  who  followed  his  banners.  Again  ancient 
Irish  families  were  compelled  to  leave  their  homes  and  the 
!  graves  of  their  fathers,  and  go  forth  like  Abraham,  not 
knoAving  Avhither  they  went.  Again,  a  neAV  brood  settled 
j  in  the  land.  Wasted  comities  Avere  filled  up  by  the  En¬ 
glish  plantations.  Almost  the  whole  of  Ulster  was  occu¬ 
pied  by  Scotch  Presbyterians. 

In  Scotland  there  have  been  tAvo  open  rebellions  since 
i  — in  1715,  and  in  1745.  It  is  hardly  a  hundred  years  since 
the  English  cavalry  rode  doAvn  the  Highlanders,  who  had 
taken  up  arms  for  Charles  Stuart,  on  the  field  of  Culloden. 
But  Iioav  different  Avas  the  treatment  of  Scotland  from  that 
of  Ireland ! 

Such  has  been  the  war  of  extermination  which  England 
has  carried  on  in  Ireland.  By  the  most  sweeping  confisca¬ 
tions  knoAvn  in  the  history  of  the  world,  and  by  a  general 
system  of  expatriation  pursued  for  hundreds  of  years,  she 
has  tried  to  root  out  the  old  stock,  and  to  cause  the  nation 
to  dA\rindle  aAvay.  God  has  brought  their  counsels  to  naught. 
The  more  the  Irish  have  been  oppressed,  the  more  they 
have  increased.  In  spite  of  Avar  and  famine,  they  have 
multiplied  like  the  Israelites  in  Egypt. 

Where  the  proud  spirit  of  the  Irish  could  not  be  bro¬ 
ken,  the  alternative  has  sometimes  been  given  them  to  em¬ 
igrate.  At  the  surrender  of  Limerick  was  witnessed  a 
scene  which  illustrates  the  spirit  of  Irishmen.  In  the  terms 
of  capitulation  it  was  agreed  that  the  troops  who  Avere  un- 

B* 


34 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


willing  to  enter  the  service  of  England  should  have  liberty 
to  retire  to  France.  A  flag  was  planted  in  front  of  the 
town ;  the  representatives  of  three  kings  stood  beside  it ; 
and  as  the  army  marched  by,  those  who  chose  the  service 
of  the  King  of  England  were  to  file  to  the  left,  those  who 
chose  France  to  keep  on.  All  was  silence  on  the  plain, 
save  the  slow  tramp  of  fifteen  thousand  men.  A  few  hun¬ 
dreds  only  turned  to  the  left.  The  great  body  marched  on 
in  solid  column,  preferring  exile  to  a  home  in  their  coun¬ 
try  no  longer  free.  They  were  soon  the  flower  of  the 
armies  of  Louis  XIV. 

So  the  severity  of  Cromwell  drove  thousands  into 
foreign  countries — a  suicidal  policy,  which  England  has 
had  cause  to  rue  on  many  a  bloody  field.  This  led  to  the 
formation  of  Irish  brigades  in  the  continental  armies.  A 
reserve  of  these  troops  turned  the  tide  of  battle  at  F ontenoy 
against  “the  proud  Cumberland.”  So  England  has  often 
been  crossed  by  the  sword  of  her  exiled  subjects  in  the 
armies  of  Xapoleon,  and  in  both  the  American  wars. 


CHAPTER  III. 


Difference  of  Religion. — Why  the  Reformation  did  not  spread  in 
Ireland. — Persecution  of  the  Catholics. 

The  cause  which  more  than  all  others  has  kept  up 
the  alienation  of  races  in  Ireland,  has  been  difference  of  re¬ 
ligion.  Without  bearing  this  in  mind,  no  one  can  under¬ 
stand  Irish  history.  This  is  the  cause  which  has  made  its 
civil  feuds  and  wars  so  bitter. 

Had  the  Reformation  spread  in  Ireland  as  it  did  in 
Scotland,  there  might  have  been  a  gradual  assimilation  of 
the  Celtic  and  Saxon  races.  But  as  it  stopped  the  other 
side  of  the  channel,  it  rather  aggravated  the  condition  of 
the  Irish,  as  it  destroyed  the  only  bond  which  remained 
between  them  and  their  conquerors,  the  bond  of  religion. 

A  stumbling-block  to  the  reader  of  Irish  history  is  the 
fact  that  the  Reformation  never  spread  in  Ireland.  It  will 
not  do  to  set  this  down  at  once  to  the  stupidity  of  the 
Irish  people.  Whatever  calamity  it  may  have  been  to 
them  that  they  did  not  embrace  the  new  religion  of  their 
masters,  the  Protestants  of  England  have  themselves  to 
blame  for  it.  The  measures  employed  to  introduce  it  re¬ 
volted  the  nation.  Had  it  been  brought  to  them  in  the  true 
spirit  of  Christianity,  it  would  have  met  little  resistance. 


3G 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


Had  pains  been  taken  to  instruct  the  people,  to  commend 
the  new  faith  to  their  intelligence  or  to  their  affections, 
the  effect  would  have  been  different.  Had  their  preju¬ 
dices  been  conciliated  by  kindness ;  had  their  confidence 
been  won  by  the  ministry  of  truly  pious  men,  who  went 
among  the  people,  who  sympathized  in  their  depressed 
state,  who  shared  then-  poverty,  and  instructed  them  by 
conversation  and  by  example,  they  would  have  found  will¬ 
ing  hearers  in  the  cabins  of  that  warm-hearted  people. 
Had  some  bold  and  earnest  reformer,  like  John  Knox, 
risen  up  to  give  his  own  stamp  to  the  clergy,  and  devoted 
himself  to  the  welfare  of  the  people,  the  Reformation  woidd 
doubtless  have  spread  as  rapidly  as  it  did  in  Scotland. 

Happy  for  Ireland  had  it  been  so  !  What  makes  Scot¬ 
land  the  glory  of  all  lands?  Her  hills  are  bleak.  Her 
glens  are  wild  and  savage.  The  rain  beats  on  her  bald 
mountains.  Her  gorges  foam  with  mist.  What  hand  un¬ 
seen  hath  made  flowers  bloom  upon  the  barren  waste  ?  A 
pure  religion  has  descended  like  a  baptism  on  her  hills. 
And  from  many  a  lonely  sheiling  steals  up  the  voice  of 
prayer  and  of  singing.  These  glens  are  made  beautiful  by 
the  feet  of  heavenly  guides.  “  On  the  Grampian  hills”  the 
spiritual  shepherd  “feeds  his  flock.” 

But  in  Ireland  the  change  of  religion  was  a  mere  mat¬ 
ter  of  policy,  and  it  was  forced  upon  the  nation  in  the 
most  harsh  and  intolerant  spirit.  That  country  has  been 
unfortunate  in  the  apostles  who  have  undertaken  to  teach 
her  a  better  faith  than  her  early,  simple  Christianity. 
Henry  II.,  who  was  commissioned  to  subdue  Ireland  to  the 
Pope,  before  he  could  enter  on  that  holy  work,  was  whip- 


APOSTLES  OF  REFORMATION. 


37 


ped  by  eight  monks  for  the  murder  of  a  saint  at  tbe  sbrine 
of  St.  Thomas  of  Canterbury.  Of  Henry  VIII.  who  intro¬ 
duced  the  Reformation,  the  high  reputation  for  sanctity  is 
well  known.  As  the  motives  of  this  monarch  were  the 
lowest,  so  the  means  he  employed  were  the  worst.  The 
preachers  sent  among  the  Irish  were  generally  ignorant, 
and  often  not  even  men  of  decent  morals.  They  took  no 
pains  to  learn  the  Irish  language.  The  liturgy  was  read 
in  English,  which  to  the  peasantry  was  an  unknown 
tongue.  In  condescension  however  to  popular  ignorance, 
where  an  English  reader  could  not  be  found,  permission 
was  given  to  celebrate  the  service  in  Latin !  Of  two  un¬ 
known  tongues  the  people  chose  that  which  they  had  been 
accustomed  to  hear  from  their  priests.  For  the  spiritual 
welfare  of  the  people  the  imported  clergy  cared  nothing. 
So  utterly  neglected  was  religious  instruction,  that  but 
for  the  Presbyterians  of  the  north,  and  the  Methodists, 
who  have  been  the  missionaries  of  the  poor,  Protestantism 
at  this  day  would  hardly  have  a  name  in  Ireland,  except 
among  the  aristocracy  and  the  hangers-on  of  government. 
The  rector  stood  aloof  from  the  peasant,  and  hardly  took 
notice  of  his  existence  except  in  collecting  his  tithes; 
while  the  priest  was  his  companion,  his  counselor  and 
friend.  Was  it  strange  that  the  poor  people,  who  always 
judge  more  from  example  than  from  argument,  should 
have  hesitated  to  abandon  the  faith  of  their  fathers  for  a 
new  religion  which  furnished  such  sorry  examples  of 
piety?  Attached  therefore  as  we  are  to  the  Protestant 
faith,  we  can  not  but  regard  the  fact  that  the  Irish  clung  to 
their  ancient  religion  under  these  circumstances  as  most 


ss 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


honorable  to  their  national  character.  It  is  no  credit  to  a 
man  to  change  religions  without  very  substantial  reasons. 
He  who  does  it  puts  shame  upon  his  fathers  by  deserting 
the  faith  in  which  they  lived,  and  died.  But  what  reason 
had  the  Irish  to  change  their  faith?  Of  the  abstract 
points  in  dispute  probably  not  one  in  a  thousand  had  the 
means  of  forming  a  judgment,  even  if  he  had  the  capacity 
to  decide  upon  such  questions.  Since  then  they  could 
have  no  opinion  of  their  own,  they  could  only  change  on 
the  authority  of  some  one  whose  superior  knowledge  and 
character  should  be  a  sufficient  guaranty  for  the  truth 
and  excellence  of  his  doctrine.  But  Henry  VIII.  was 
hardly  enough  of  a  saint  to  create  a  strong  presumption  in 
favor  of  the  reformed  Christianity.  Was  it  a  proof  of  the 
stupidity  of  the  Irish  that  they  did  not  instantly  recognize 
that  exemplary  king,  or  his  royal  daughter  Elizabeth,  to 
be  divinely  commissioned  to  preach  a  new  religion?  Was 
it  to  their  disgrace  that  they  did  not  forsake  the  faith 
which  they  had  received  from  their  spiritual  guides  at  the 
bidding  of  a  tyrant,  or  of  an  imperious  woman  ?  Lordly 
prelates  were  easily  seduced  to  change  their  church  for 
the  sake  of  advancement.  Out  of  nineteen  bishops  in  the 
time  of  Elizabeth,  seventeen  abjured  popery  as  readily  as 
in  the  former  reign  they  had  renounced  Protestantism.* 
But  the  parish  priests  and  the  poor  peasantry  clung  to  the 

*  Taylor’s  History  of  the  Civil  Wars  in  Ireland.  This  work  has  been  re¬ 
published  in  this  country  in  two  volumes  of  Harper’s  Family  Library,  under 
the  title  of  History  of  Ireland.  The  references  to  it  here  are  to  the  American 
edition. 


REFORMATION  DOES  NOT  SPREAD. 


39 


worship  of  tlieir  fathers.  Which  gave  the  better  evidence 
of  an  earnest  faith  in  Christianity  ? 

The  Puritans  brought  still  another  form  of  doctrine. 
But  of  these  new  Protestants  all  that  the  Irish  saw,  was 
that  they  were  foreigners,  who  invaded  their  country  with 
their  creed  in  one  hand  and  the  sword  in  the  other  ;  that 
they  claimed  to  be  saints,  and  so  to  have  a  right  to  possess 
the  earth ;  that  they  came  to  drive  out  the  Irish  as  hea¬ 
then,  and  were  more  anxious  to  exterminate  than  to  con¬ 
vert  them,  since  the  former  only  would  enable  them  to 
seize  upon  their  lands.  The  Irish  could  not  yield  to  such 
arguments.  They  could  not  associate  religion  with  con¬ 
fiscation  and  massacre.  They  could  not  receive  the  gospel 
from  hands  red  with  the  blood  of  their  brethren. 

It  was  manifestly  for  their  interest  to  turn  Protestants. 
But  to  have  done  so,  instead  of  showing  them  a  more 
devout  people,  would  only  have  evinced  an  indifference  to 
all  religion.  It  would  have  argued  about  as  sincere  con¬ 
viction  as  Bern’s  turning  Mohammedan.  Nothing  shows 
such  entire  recklessness  of  religion  as  facility  in  changing 
it.  It  is  therefore  the  strongest  proof  that  the  ancient 
Christianity  had  a  hold  upon  the  affections  of  the  Irish 
people,  that  they  would  not  change  it,  even  when  driven 
from  their  homes  and  threatened  with  death. 

If  any  thing  had  been  wanting  to  complete  the  aliena¬ 
tion  of  the  Irish  from  the  Reformed  doctrine,  it  was  sup¬ 
plied  by  the  attempt  to  enforce  it  by  cruel  laws.  We 
hear  much  of  the  persecution  of  Protestants  in  former 
ages  by  Catholics,  and  it  is  well  to  be  reminded  that  Prot¬ 
estants  in  their  days  of  power  have  not  always  been  mild 


40 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


and  tolerant.*  Hainan  nature  must  be  changed  before 
the  Irisli  Catholics  can  regard  Protestantism  with  any 
other  emotions  than  those  of  horror.  From  the  day 
that  Henry  VIII.  proclaimed  a  new  religion  through¬ 
out  the  British  Islands,  they  have  known  nothing  of 
it  but  its  oppressions.  It  is  associated  with  England,  the 
country  which  they  most  hate.  To  this  day  they  have 
but  one  word  in  their  language  to  designate  Englishman 
and  Protestant.  Both  are  Sassanagh.  The  very  name 
recalls  the  wrongs  of  hundreds  of  years.  It  brings  afresh 
to  mind  the  oppressors  of  their  country,  the  murderers  of 
their  fathers  and  mothers.  The  Protestants  first  came  to 
Ireland,  like  Mohammed  among  the  tribes  of  Arabia,  sword 
in  hand.  Instead  of  soothing  down  old  enmities,  they  re¬ 
vived  hereditary  feuds,  and  made  the  hatred  of  the  Saxon 
and  the  Celt  more  bitter  and  relentless.  When  religion  is 
perverted  to  sanction  wrong ;  when  an  unenlightened  con¬ 
science  or  mistaken  sense  of  duty  justifies  persecution,  it 
produces  a  cruelty  more  refined,  a  torture  more  exquisite,, 
than  mere  revenge  knows  how  to  prepare  for  its  victims. 
Thus,  when  the  Puritans  came  to  Ireland,  the  intensity  of 

*  I  shall  not  soon  forget  a  conversation  with  the  president  of  Maynooth. 
We  were  walking  in  the  library  of  the  College,  talking  of  the  Church  of 
Rome.  He  listened  with  kindness  to  my  objections,  and  made  such  answers 
as  he  thought  satisfactory.  I  expressed  abhorrence  of  the  persecutions 
by  the  Catholics.  He  stopped,  and  speaking  slowly  and  with  great  energy, 
replied,  “Yes,  the  Catholics  have  persecuted;  but  not  more  than  the  Protes¬ 
tants;  and  never — never  in  the  history  of  the  world  was  there  an  instance  of 
such  persecution  as  that  of  the  Irish  Catholics.” ,  The  earnestness  with  which 
he  spoke  startled  me,  but  since  I  am  better  acquainted  with  the  wrongs  of 
his  country,  it  no  longer  excites  surprise. 


NO  FAITH  WITH  PAPISTS. 


41 


their  religious  zeal  led  them  into  cruelties  which  their 
hearts  would  not  have  prompted.  They  were  ready  to 
call  down  fire  from  heaven  to  burn  up  their  enemies,  be¬ 
cause  these  were  also  the  enemies  of  the  Lord.  They  had 
continually  before  their  minds  the  Israelites  in  Canaan, 
and  felt  called  upon  by  the  voice  of  God  to  exterminate 
an  idolatrous  nation.  They  were  fond  of  quoting  the 
texts,  “  That  thy  feet  may  be  dipped  in  the  blood  of  thine 
enemies,  and  that  the  tongue  of  thy  dogs  may  be  red  with 
the  same,”  and  “  The  high  praises  of  God  Avere  in  their 
mouths,  and  a  tAVO-edged  sword  in  their  hands,  to  execute 
vengeance  upon  the  heathen,  and  punishments  upon  the 
people.” 

The  Catholics  have  been  branded  Avitli  infamy  because 
some  of  them  have  held  that  no  faith  Avas  to  be  kept 
Avith  heretics.  We  are  not  anxious  to  screen  them  from 
deserved  reprobation.  A  doctrine  so  atrocious,  Avherever 
it  appears,  should  be  held  up  to  the  detestation  of  man¬ 
kind.  But  let  the  truth  be  told.  Many  of  the  saintly 
Puritans  taught  no  better  morality.  They  held  that  all 
obligations  were  dissolved  in  treating  with  the  enemies  of 
God  and  man.  “Not  a  few  of  the  preachers  of  that 
period  denounced  from  their  pulpits  the  sparing  of  the 
papists  as  a  heinous  sin,  and  urged  the  godly  to  consum¬ 
mate  the  Avork  of  slaughter,  even  as  Samuel  had  hewed 
Agag  in  pieces  before  the  Lord  at  Gilgal.”* 

If  Ave  ask  the  cause  of  this  inhumanity,  Ave  shall  find 
that  it  Avas  owing  to  religious  bigotry,  stimulated  by  self- 
interest.  The  Protestants  of  Ireland  Avere  honorable  men 


Taylor,  vol.  ii.  p.  45. 


42 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


in  other  respects.  They  made  great  pretensions  to  re¬ 
ligion.  They  were  men  of  integrity  and  uncommon 
purity  of  life — honest,  upright,  fearing  God,  and  not  awed 
by  man.  They,  too,  had  shown  a  heroism  in  suffering  in 
their  evil  times,  which  had  won  for  them  the  admiration 
of  mankind.  But  fanaticism  hardened  their  hearts.  It 
steeled  them  against  pity.  The  spirit  of  religious  bigotry, 
which  is  set  on  fire  of  hell,  consumed  every  sentiment  of 
humanity. 

We  do  not  charge  these  crimes  to  the  whole  Protestant 
world.  But  neither  is  it  fair  to  charge  the  sentiments  of 
a  few  fanatical  Dominicans  upon  the  whole  of  Catholic 
Christendom.  Persecution  was  the  error  not  of  one 
church  only,  but  of  an  age  ignorant  and  superstitious — 
an  age,  we  trust,  forever  past. 

But  the  determination  to  crush  Popery  was  not  left  to 
the  occasional  violence  of  persecution.  It  was  framed  into 
a  code  of  laws,  more  bitter  and  relentless  than  ever  before 
were  devised  to  put  down  a  religion.  Gladly  would  we 
pass  over  this  dark  chapter,  but  the  truth  of  history  com¬ 
pels  us  to  notice  the  penal  laws  enacted  against  the 
Catholics  of  Ireland.  Persecutions  have  taken  place  in 
other  countries.  Religious  wars  have  destroyed  the  tran¬ 
quillity  of  many  nations.  But  a  cruelty  so  systematized, 
a  code  sc  inhuman,  we  know  not  where  else  to  find. 
“You  abhorred  it,”  said  Burke,  “as  I  did,  for  its  vicious 
perfection ;  for  I  must  do  it  justice,  it  was  a  complete  sys¬ 
tem,  full  of  coherence  and  consistency,  well  digested  and 
well  composed  in  all  its  parts.  It  was  a  machine  of  wise 
and  elaborate  contrivance,  and  as  well  fitted  for  the  op- 


LAWS  AGAINST  CATHOLICS. 


43 


pression,  impoverishment  and  degradation  of  a  people,  and 
the  debasement  in  them  of  human  nature  itself,  as  ever 
proceeded  from  the  perverted  ingenuity  of  man.” 

By  the  laws  passed  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Anne,  a 
Catholic  could  not  purchase  an  acre  of  ground  in  the 
kingdom.  He  could  not  purchase  any  manor,  or  tene¬ 
ment,  or  even  hold  a  lease  for  a  term  exceeding  thirty-one 
years.  Even  his  lease,  if  he  got  over  a  certain  profit  from 
it,  he  forfeited  to  the  first  Protestant  who  made  the  dis¬ 
covery.  If  a  Catholic  owned  a  horse,  of  whatever  value, 
a  Protestant  could  take  it  from  him  upon  paying  him  five 
pounds.  Catholics  were  excluded  from  many  profitable 
branches  of  trade,  and  in  many  instances  from  residence 
within  the  walls  of  cities.  If  they  were  not  reduced  to 
absolute  penury,  it  was  from  no  lack  of  effort  to  impov¬ 
erish  them. 

A  Catholic  could  hold  no  office  of  trust  or  emolument, 
either  civil  or  military;  and  this,  though  the  army  and 
navy  were  filled  with  Irish  Catholics,  serving  as  privates. 
They  were  admitted  into  the  ranks  as  slaves,  but  never 
allowed  to  be  masters.  Thus  the  sense  of  dignity  and 
self-respect  which  comes  from  the  possession  of  property, 
or  from  official  station,  was  utterly  broken  down.  Catholics 
had  no  hand  in  the  administration  of  justice,  and  dared 
not  hope  for  redress  for  any  wrong.  They  were  not  even 
allowed  to  sit  on  grand  juries.  Thus  there  was  no  obstacle 
to  the  petty  tyranny  of  the  country  justice.  The  Protes¬ 
tant  ascendency  had  the  gratification  of  making  their 
heavy  hand  felt  in  every  village  and  cabin  of  unhappy 
Ireland.  Nor  in  this  extremity  had  the  Catholic  the 


44 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


resource  of  education,  or  of  peaceful  religious  worship. 
Catholics  were  not  allowed  degrees  in  the  university  of 
Dublin ;  nor  could  they  found  or  endow  any  university, 
college,  or  school  of  their  own,  even  to  educate  their  own 
children.  A  papist  could  not  teach,  even  as  assistant  to  a 
Protestant  master.  A  reward  of  ten  pounds  was  offered 
for  the  discovery  of  a  Catholic  usher ! 

This  narrow  policy  punished  itself.  For  as  the  Irish 
ecclesiastics  could  not  obtain  an  education  in  their  own 
country,  they  were  sent  to  study  in  the  seminaries  of 
France  and  Spain,  and  returned  to  Ireland,  stronger  in 
their  Catholic  prejudices,  and  unlimited  in  their  devotion 
to  the  Pope. 

Still  the  vengeance  of  the  law  hung  over  them.  They 
were  not  permitted  to  celebrate  their  religious  worship. 
Fifty  pounds  were  offered  for  the  discovery  of  a  Catholic 
bishop,  and  twenty  pounds  for  a  priest ! 

A  Catholic  could  not  marry  a  Protestant.  As  late  as 
1745,  (scarce  a  hundred  years  ago,)  this  law  was  amended 
by  an  addition,  that  any  papist  priest,  who  celebrated  such 
a  marriage,  should  be  hanged !  Thus  were  they  branded 
as  a  degraded  race.  Guilty  of  no  crime,  convicted  of  no 
wrong,  simply  for  his  religious  faith,  the  Catholic  was 
visited  with  those  penalties,  which,  under  just  laws,  are 
reserved  for  robbery  and  murder.  Catholics  and  Protes¬ 
tants  were  kept  apart  from  birth.  How  could  they  help 
feeling  that  they  were  natural  enemies  ?  “  Such  laws,  ”  said 
an  Irish  orator,  “  were  sown  like  the  dragon’s  teeth  in  my 
country;  but,  thank  God,  the  harvest  has  been  armed 
men!” 


i 


LAWS  AGAINST  CATHOLICS. 


45 


But  this  infamous  code  went  still  farther,  and  attempted 
to  introduce  discord  into  every  Catholic  family.  It  sought 
to  destroy  confidence  between  parents  and  children,  by 
holding  out  temptations  to  the  son  to  rob  his  father.  If 
the  son  of  a  papist  conformed  to  the  established  religion, 
he  succeeded  to  the  family  estate,  which  from  that  moment 
the  father  could  not  sell,  nor  mortgage,  nor  dispose  of  by 
will.  No  papist  could  be  in  a  line  of  entail,  but  the 
estate  passed  on  to  the  next  Protestant  heir,  as  if  the 
papist  were  dead.  A  papist  could  not  be  the  guardian  of 
his  own  child.  If  the  child,  though  ever  so  young,  pre¬ 
tended  to  be  a  Protestant,  it  was  taken  from  the  father, 
and  placed  under  the  care  of  the  nearest  Protestant 
relation.  At  the  same  time  the  father  was  bound  to  pay 
an  annuity  for  its  support.* 

Such  were  the  laws  against  the  Catholics  of  Ireland, 
passed  by  the  Protestant  ascendency  of  that  country, 
backed  by  England ; — a  code,  which  did  not  come  down 
from  the  dark  ages,  but  which  was  enacted  at  the  com¬ 
mencement  of  the  Eighteenth  Century !  And  this  at  the 
very  time  that  the  ministers  of  England  were  engaged  in  a 
negotiation  with  the  Emperor  of  Germany  to  obtain  a  full 
toleration  of  Protestantism  in  his  dominions!  “Shame 
can  no  farther  go.” 

These  laws  were  executed  in  the  most  sanguinary 
spirit.  Catholic  chapels  were  shut  up  by  force.  Their 
clergy  were  sent  to  prison,  or  into  exile.  The  history  of 
persecution  in  Ireland  has  not  been  so  often  presented  as 

*  For  a  full  exposure  of  the  enormity  of  this  code,  see  Sidney  Smith’s 
articles  in  the  Edinburgh  Review,  and  Peter  Plymley’a  Letters. 


46 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


of  tliat  in  Scotland.  But  if  worthily  written,  it  would  be 
found  as  rich  in  tales  of  religious  heroism  as  that  of  the 
Scotch  covenanters.  Priest-hunting  was  an  amusement 
for  the  gentry  in  Ireland  as  well  as  in  Scotland.  Some¬ 
times  bloodhounds  were  employed  to  track  the  game* 
And  many  were  the  faithful  priests,  who  met  their  flocks 
in  caves,  in  mountains,  and  morasses,  to  administer  the 
rites  of  their  religion. 

We  record  these  acts  of  wrong  in  no  spirit  of  triumph 
at  the  discovered  tyranny  of  another  country.  It  is  no 
part  of  the  design  of  this  volume  to  revive  bitterness 
against  England,  the  Mother  of  Nations.  We  can  speak 
even  of  these  things  with  calmness,  for  they  are  irrevo¬ 
cably  past,  and  there  is  no  prospect  that  they  will  ever 
return.  Still  it  is  fit  that  they  should  live  in  history, 
along  with  tales  of  Bastilles  and  Inquisitions,  as  melancholy 
proofs  of 


“  Man’s  inhumanity  to  man.” 

The  attempt  to  coerce  the  Irish  produced  the  same 
effect  as  that  to  enforce  conformity  upon  the  Presbyterians 
of  Scotland.  The  Scotch  resisted  the  encroachment  on 
their  religious  rights  with  the  characteristic  stubborness  of 
their  nation.  “  On  reading  of  the  new  liturgy  in  Edin¬ 
burgh,  no  sooner  had  the  dean,  arrayed  in  his  surplice, 
opened  the  book,  than  a  multitude,  clapping  their  hands, 
and  crying  out,  a  pope !  a  pope!  antichrist!  stone  him! 
raised  such  a  tumult  that  it  was  impossible  to  proceed  -with 


*  Taylor,  voL  ii,  p.  52. 


PERSECUTION  OP  CATHOLICS. 


47 


tlie  service.”*  Such  arguments  were  not  to  be  resisted. 
The  Scotch  at  last  prevailed,  and  obtained  freedom  to 
enjoy  their  Presbyterianism  in  peace.  The  struggle  of  the 
Irish,  if  less  violent  and  less  successful,  was  not  less 
honorable.  It  was  the  cause  of  liberty  in  both  cases. 
Covenanter  and  Catholic  alike  contended  for  freedom  to 
worship  God.  And  on  the  Irish  moor,  as  in  the  Scottish 
glen,  it  was  to  the  honor  of  a  poor  peasantry  that  they 
clung  to  their  ancient  faith,  rather  than  receive  passively  a 
religion  of  which  they  knew  nothing  but  that  it  was  the 
author  of  their  woes. 

That  the  Irish  character  has  survived  such  persevering 
efforts  to  crush  and  brutalize  it,  is  the  most  extraordinary 
fact  in  the  history  of  that  people.  That  they  retain  to 
this  day  such  wit  and  humor,  such  gayety,  and  an  attach¬ 
ment  so  affecting  to  their  native  land,  is  the  most  signal 
proof  of  the  elasticity  of  their  national  character,  and 
gives  the  best  hope  that  they  will  yet  rise  above  all  their 
misfortunes,  and  secure  the  happiness  and  glory  of  their 
country. 

*  Hume’a  History  of  England. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


The  Struggle  for  Iaisn  Independence  Begins. — The  American  War. — 
Danger  of  a  French  Invasion. — Tiie  Irish  Volunteers  organized. — 
Demand  for  Free  Trade  and  an  Independent  Parliament. — Revolution 
of  1782. — Rejoicings  of  the  People. — Grattan. — The  French  Revolu¬ 
tion  breaks  out. 

The  first  organized  movement  for  liberty  in  Ireland 
was  occasioned  by  the  American  Revolution.  Our  seven 
years’  war  of  independence  was  the  beginning  of  modern 
revolutions.  The  wave  of  liberty,  rolling  from  the  west, 
soon  began  to  break  on  the  European  shores.  Its  first  dis¬ 
tant  echo  was  heard  in  Ireland. 

When  the  news  came  that  the  colonies  of  Great  Britain 
beyond  the  seas  had  broken  out  into  open  rebellion  against 
the  mother  country,  the  people  of  the  British  islands  were 
unanimous  that  it  should  be  suppressed  by  force  of  arms. 
They  had  been  accustomed  to  speak  of  their  foreign  pos¬ 
sessions  as  “  our  colonies,”  so  that  almost  every  man  in  the 
united  kingdom  felt  as  if  the  Americans  were  rebels  against 
himself.  Besides  it  was  a  matter  easily  accomplished.  One 
vigorous  blow  would  annihilate  the  young  power  that  had 
begun  to  lift  its  head  beyond  the  ocean,  and  to  deal  this 
was  essential  to  the  integrity  and  glory  of  the  British  em¬ 
pire. 


THE  AMERICAN  WAR. 


49 


Kemote  from  tlie  scene  of  contest,  Ireland  at  first  felt 
no  danger  from  tlie  war  which  England  was  waging  with 
her  revolted  colonies.  But  when  France  and  Spain  came 
forward  to  take  part  in  the  contest,  that  country  was  placed 
in  imminent  peril.  The  combined  fleets  were  then  superior 
to  the  naval  force  of  England,  and  they  rode  through  St. 
George’s  Channel  in  triumph,  and  threatened  a  descent 
upon  the  Irish  coast.  Should  they  land,  there  was  no 
force  in  Ireland  to  resist  them.  The  troops  had  been  called 
off  to  America,  and  there  remained  in  the  whole  island  not 
more  than  five  thousand  soldiers  to  repel  an  invasion,  or  to 
suppress  domestic  insurrection.  The  loyal  inhabitants  be¬ 
came  alarmed.  Only  eighteen  years  before,  Belfast  had 
been  invaded  by  the  French.  The  inhabitants  now  peti¬ 
tioned  the  English  government  for  troops  to  protect  the 
city.  The  answer  disclosed  the  weakness  of  England  at 
that  moment.  The  government  declared  that  all  the  force 
they  could  spare  was  half  a  troop  of  dismounted  horse,  and 
half  a  company  of  invalids !  Of  course  the  French  could 
enter  Belfast  without  firing  a  gun.  The  people  then  deter¬ 
mined  to  arm  themselves  to  protect  their  country.  Thus 
began,  in  1778,  the  organization  of  the  Irish  volunteers. 
The  spirited  town  of  Belfast  took  the  lead,  and  other  cities 
and  counties  soon  followed.  The  government  could  not 
refuse  them  arms,  and  the  organization  spread  rapidly 
until  it  numbered  eighty  thousand  men,  well  armed,  and 
supplied  with  near  a  hundred  pieces  of  cannon.  This 
was  a  force  too  formidable  to  be  attacked,  and  no  in¬ 
vasion  was  attempted.  This  was  the  first  benefit  of  the 

C 


50 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


American  [Revolution  to  Ireland.  It  gave  her  a  national 
army. 

Meanwhile  the  war  was  silently  producing  a  vast  moral 
effect.  At  first  the  resistance  of  America  was  looked  upon 
as  an  audacious  rebellion.  Europe  had  not  learned  to  re¬ 
spect  her  valor  in  the  field,  nor  to  appreciate  the  principles 
for  which  she  fought.  But  as  the  war  went  on,  the  feel¬ 
ings  of  the  Irish,  and  to  some  extent  of  the  English  people, 
changed  from  contempt  to  respect,  and  from  respect  to  ad¬ 
miration.  The  long  line  of  muskets  which  gleamed  over 
the  breastwork  on  Bunker’s  Hill,  and  shot  incessant  flame, 
taught  the  British  battalions  that  they  had  an  enemy  that 
was  not  to  be  despised.  The  darkest  hour  of  the  Revolu¬ 
tion  ivas  when  the  army  of  Washington  fled  through  Hew 
Jersey,  tracking  the  ground  with  blood,  the  foe  in  hot  pur¬ 
suit.  Yet  even  then  their  triumph  was  short.  Crossing 
the  Delaware  in  midwinter,  amid  floating  ice,  the  rebel 
hero  had  surprised  two  detachments  in  their  camps,  fought 
and  won  Wo  pitched  battles,  and  recrossed  with  his  pris¬ 
oners,  before  the  main  body  of  the  royal  troops  could  be 
brought  up  to  the  attack.  A  brave  enemy  could  not  re¬ 
fuse  their  admiration  of  these  daring  achievements,  and 
tales  of  the  rebel  valor  fonnd  their  way  across  the  sea,  and 
turned  the  current  of  European  sympathy  in  favor  of  these 
brave  defenders  of  their  native  land. 

The  brilliant  army  of  Burgoyne,  as  they  marched  out 
of  their  camp  to  lay  down  their  arms,  and  cast  a  look 
towards  the  rude  farmer  soldiery  that  surrounded  them, 
could  not  suppress  a  feeling  of  admiration  for  these  men, 
who,  though  they  had  wives  and  children  to  make  life 


THE  AMERICAN  REVOLUTION. 


51 


dear,  had  come  out  from  their  mountain  homes  at  the  call 
of  their  country,  to  peril  life  in  the  field  of  battle. 

Meanwhile  the  attention  of  Europe  became  more  fixed 
on  this  colonial  war.  From  being  viewed  as  a  rebellion,  it 
began  to  be  regarded  as  a  rightful  struggle  for  liberty,  and 
to  attract  the  sympathies  of  the  friends  of  freedom  through¬ 
out  Europe.  Enthusiastic  soldiers  of  liberty  crossed  the 
seas  to  share  the  fortunes  of  the  American  arms.  And 
when  the  batteries  at  Yorktown  were  silenced,  there  was 
many  a  heart  which  rejoiced  even  in  the  kingly  courts  of 
Europe.  The  French  grenadiers,  who  saw  the  proud  col¬ 
umns  of  Cornwallis  file  through  their  ranks  as  captives, 
caught  the  enthusiasm  for  liberty,  which  beat  in  every 
American  bosom  in  that  glad  hour  of  triumph.  And  they 
carried  back  the  principles  of  freedom  to  take  root  in  the 
soil  of  France. 

At  the  same  time  the  spell  of  English  invincibility  was 
sinking.  From  year  to  year  the  war  went  on.  Campaign 
after  campaign  was  begun  and  ended,  and  yet  conquest 
seemed  as  distant  as  ever.  No  vanquished  rebels  sued  for 
peace.  No  royal  proclamation  announced  that  the  colo¬ 
nists  were  subdued,  and  their  leaders  brought  to  punishment. 
Thus  it  continued  for  eight  years,  till  England  had  to  ac¬ 
knowledge  the  unwelcome  truth  that  she  could  not  con¬ 
quer  America,  and  to  give  up  the  attempt. 

The  war  operated  in  Ireland  in  other  ways.  It 
brought  no  glory,  but  it  brought  heavy  taxes.  Of  the  few 
articles  of  trade  which  remained  to  the  Irish,  the  principal 
was  linens.  For  these  the  American  colonies  had  fur- 


52 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


nislied  the  most  profitable  market.  This  trade  the  war  at 
once  destroyed.  Besides,  the  English  government  had 
prohibited  the  exportation  of  corn,  lest  it  should  cir¬ 
cuitously  reach  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  Thus 
the  miseries  of  war  were  brought  home  to  their  own 
hearths. 

But  the  great  effect  was  in  the  example  of  indepen¬ 
dence  gained.  America  was  free.  “British  supremacy 
had  fallen  there  like  a  spent  thunderbolt.”*  In  seven 
years  she  had  gained  her  independence,  while  for  six 
hundred  years  Ireland  had  groaned  in  bondage.  Must 
this  always  be  ?  Were  they  doomed  to  remain  forever  a 
nation  of  slaves  ? 

The  Irish  volunteers  had  secured  them  first  object, 
safety  from  a  foreign  foe.  By  this  they  had  learned  their 
power.  And  now  a  greater  object  seemed  within  reach,  to 
secure  some  degree  of  independence  for  themselves.  They 
determined  not  to  lay  down  their  arms  until  the  odious  re¬ 
strictions  on  their  trade  should  be  abolished.  Their  com¬ 
merce  should  be  no  longer  the  hazard  of  war,  nor  sacri¬ 
ficed  to  the  jealousy  of  English  and  Scotch  merchants. 
They  resolved  that  Ireland  should  enjoy  that  free  trade 
for  which  she  had  vast  natural  facilities.  ISTor  would  they 
lay  down  their  arms,  until  they  had  obtained  the  right  to 
make  their  own  laws;  until  their  parliament  should  be 
emancipated  from  the  control  of  England. 

The  spectacle  was  sublime.  It  was  the  first  organized 
movement  for  liberty  which  Ireland  had  seen  for  many 
centuries.  There  had  often  been  times  of  turbulence 


*  Grattan. 


DEMAND  FOR  INDEPENDENCE. 


53 


and  of  popular  violence.  Tlie  old  history  of  Ireland 
is  full  of  civil  wars.  The  days  of  strife  had  been  many. 
Old  feuds  had  descended  from  sire  to  son,  and  often  broken 
forth  in  deeds  of  vengeance.  Many  a  chief  had  marshaled 
his  clan.  War-cries  had  echoed  in  the  glens  and  down 
the  vales.  Corpses  had  been  strewn  on  the  mountain  and 
the  plain. 

But  since  that  day  when  the  Irish  nation  assembled  on 
the  memorable  field  of  Clontarf,  and,  in  a  battle  which 
raged  from  dawn  till  set  of  sun,  broke  forever  the  power 
of  the  Danes — the  people  had  never  appeared  united  until 
now.  No  violence  was  attempted.  The  movement  was 
peaceful  and  firm.  For  the  first  time  the  people  of  Ireland 
stood  together  shoulder  to  shoulder,  to  effect  a  bloodless 
revolution.  A  cry  arose  for  universal  liberty. 

“I  never  will  be  satisfied,”  said  Grattan,  “so  long 
as  the  meanest  cottager  in  Ireland  has  a  link  of  the 
British  chain  clinging  to  his  rags :  he  may  be  naked,  but 
he  shall  not  be  in  iron.”  Before,  the  nation  had  appeared 
as  dead.  Everywhere  reigned  the  stupor  of  despotism. 
But  now,  beneath  this  surface  of  death  a  great  nation’s 
heart  began  to  beat. 

England  resisted  as  long  as  she  dared.  And  Scotland, 
though  she  had  suffered  so  much  from  England,  joined  in 
the  oppression  of  Ireland.  Glasgow  petitioned  with  Liver¬ 
pool  and  Manchester  against  repealing  the  restrictions 
on  Irish  commerce.  But  eighty  thousand  men  in  arms 
were  not  to  be  trifled  with.  The  columns  of  liberty  were 
on  the  march  for  the  capitol,  and  the  English  ministry 
gave  way.  The  principal  restrictions  on  Irish  trade  were 


54 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


taken  off,  and  thus  was  yielded  to  fear  what  had  long  been 
denied  to  justice. 

It  was  a  great  point  carried.  But  a  greater  one  still  re¬ 
mained,  to  secure  the  legislative  independence  of  Ireland. 
She  had  a  parliament.  She  demanded  that  it  should  be 
free.  Grattan  moved  in  the  Irish  legislature,  that  “  no 
power  on  earth  save  the  king,  lords,  and  commons  of 
Ireland  had  a  right  to  make  laws  for  Ireland.”  The 
volunteers,  as  one  man,  affirmed  the  declaration.  What 
might  have  been  the  result,  had  the  American  war  been 
prolonged,  it  is  impossible  to  say.  But  “  the  surrender  of 
Lord  Cornwallis  at  Yorktown,”  says  an  Irish  historian, 
“  lost  America  to  Great  Britain,  but  preserved  Ireland.” 
Lord  North  was  forced  to  resign;  and  a  new  ministry, 
of  which  Fox  was  a  member,  at  the  same  time  acknowl¬ 
edged  the  independence  of  America,  and  granted  justice 
to  Ireland.  England  renounced  the  right  of  control  over 
the  legislature  of  her  sister  island.  That  parliament  was 
definitely  acknowledged  to  be  an  independent  body,  as 
free  to  make  laws  for  Ireland  as  the  English  parliament 
was  to  make  laws  for  England.  The  same  independence 
was  conceded  to  the  Irish  courts.  There  was  no  longer  an 
appeal  from  them  to  a  higher  English  tribunal. 

This  great  concession,  called  by  Burke  “the  Irish  Rev¬ 
olution,”  obtained  in  1782  for  Ireland,  what  the  Revolu¬ 
tion  of  1688  had  secured  for  England.  It  was  obtained 
by  union  and  firmness,  without  the  shedding  of  one  drop 
of  blood.  This  success  showed  what  Ireland  might  have 
obtained  at  almost  any  period  of  her  history  by  similar 
unanimity. 


POLITICAL  ABUSES. 


55 


The  enthusiasm  which  the  attainment  of  legislative  in¬ 
dependence  excited  in  Ireland  was  unbounded.  The  na¬ 
tion  breathed  more  freely.  The  laborer  looked  around  on 
his  hills  with  a  prouder  eye.  The  voice  of  the  peasant  was 
more  cheerful  in  his  cabin.  His  step  was  lighter  on  the 
heath.  All  classes  were  in  transports  at  the  idea  that 
Ireland  was  once  more  a  free  nation. 

But  the  work  was  not  ended.  Great  abuses  still  ex¬ 
isted  in  the  internal  constitution  of  the  country.  The 
chains  which  bound  her  were  indeed  struck  off.  But  her 
limbs  were  paratyzed  so  that  she  could  not  walk.  Her 
legislature  was  no  longer  a  mere  deputation  of  the  English 
parliament ;  still  it  very  imperfectly  represented  the  Irish 
people.  The  mass  had  no  political  power.  By  the  laws 
against  the  Catholics  three  fourths  of  the  nation  were  dis¬ 
franchised.  And  the  mode  of  representation  was  as  bad 
as  it  could  be.  The  same  rotten  borough  system  existed 
there  which  it  cost  such  a  struggle  to  suppress  in  England. 
Indeed  a  large  majority  of  members  of  Parliament  were 
nominees  of  boroughmongers.  “  Two  thirds  of  the  Irish 
House  of  Commons,”  said  Grattan,  “  are  returned  by  less 
than  one  hundred  persons.  This  is  not  even  an  aristoc¬ 
racy.  It  is  an  oligarchy.”  Men  who  held  office  were 
also  freely  admitted  to  seats.  Of  144  majority  in  one  case, 
104  were  placemen  and  pensioners.  Thus  were  afforded 
facilities  for  unlimited  corruption.  That  bribery  was  em¬ 
ployed  to  carry  the  measures  of  government,  was  noto¬ 
rious.  Peerages  were  sold,  and  the  money  applied  to  buy 
up  the  borough  proprietors,  and  thus  obtain  seats  in  the 
House  of  Commons  for  the  servants  of  the  administration. 


5G  THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 

This  shameless  corruption  was  charged  upon  members  of 
Parliament  to  their  face.  They  met  the  charge  in  a  way 
which  showed  how  low  was  their  degradation.  Instead 
of  denying  it,  they  turned  it  off  by  imputing  the  patriotic 
zeal  of  their  accusers  to  disappointment  that  they  had  no 
share  in  the  spoils.  Sometimes  they  threatened  to  fight  a 
duel,  or  to  bring  the  accusing  member  to  the  bar  of  the 
House  for  contempt.  Places  and  pensions  were  still  held 
out  as  a  continual  bribe  to  members  to  sell  their  votes  to 
the  government.  Thus  the  Parliament  was  but  the  tool 
of  the  viceroy,  his  body  of  Swiss  guards,  as  obedient  to 
the  word  of  command  as  those  who  defend  the  Pope 
against  his  own  subjects.  It  was  one  of  the  forms  of  lib¬ 
erty  which  are  sometimes  found  so  convenient  to  carry 
out  the  designs  of  despotism.  The  influence  of  England 
was  omnipotent.  The  voice  of  poor  Ireland  could  not  be 
heard  even  in  her  own  legislature.  The  nation  was  still 
governed  against  its  will  and  against  its  interest.  In  short, 
the  revolution  had  been,  not  in  favor  of  the  Irish  people, 
but  of  a  privileged  order. 

Indeed  the  English  ascendency  had  learned  a  more  art¬ 
ful  way  to  govern  Ireland — by  granting  a  legislature  nom¬ 
inally  independent,  and  ruling  it  by  patronage.  “  The 
king,”  said  Grattan,  “had  another  instrument,  more  subtile, 
and  more  pliable,  than  the  sword,  and  against  the  liberty 
of  the  subject  more  cold  and  deadly,  a  court  instrument 
that  murders  freedom  without  the  mark  of  blood,  palls  it¬ 
self  in  the  covering  of  the  constitution,  and  in  her  colors, 
and  in  her  name,  plants  the  dagger — a  borough  parlia¬ 
ment.”  So  wonderful  did  this  discovery  appear,  that 


GRATTAN. 


57 


many,  chuckling  at  its  success  in  Ireland,  expressed  regret 
that  it  had  not  been  tried  in  America ;  that  the  English 
ministry  had  not  made  concessions  with  a  show  of  gene¬ 
rosity,  granting  to  the  colonists  all  the  forms  of  liberty,  and 
trusting  to  their  royal  commissions,  and  chest  of  guineas, 
still  to  rule  them  in  accordance  with  their  will. 

A  great  contest  was  ended.  But  a  fiercer  one  was  to 
begin.  Hitherto  the  effort  of  Ireland  had  been  to  extort 
independence  of  her  legislature  from  England.  The  war 
was  now  with  the  oligarchy  at  home.  The  nation  had 
gained  the  shadow  of  liberty.  It  determined  to  have  the 
reality. 

Now  began  the  real  struggle  for  liberty.  For  centuries 
Ireland  had  been  ruled  by  a  small  faction.  All  the  offices 
— all  the  votes,  were  controlled  by  a  cabal  of  hoary-headed 
tyrants,  long  used  to  power,  and  trained  in  the  arts  by 
which  it  is  kept — a  party  that  knew  whom  to  overawe  with 
insolence — whom  to  conciliate  with  flattery,  and  whom  to 
!  seduce  with  bribes; — a  party  determined  in  its  ends,  and 
unscrupulous  in  its  means,  and  now  mad  with  rage  at  the 
prospect  of  losing  any  portion  of  its  unjust  power. 

In  this  great  struggle  Grattan  was  the  master-spirit.  To 
him  mainly  was  owing  the  Revolution  of  1782.  His  ap¬ 
peals  then  had  aroused  the  nation.  Many  times  he  was 
defeated.  But  as  often  he  brought  up  the  soldiers  of  lib¬ 
erty  to  the  attack,  and  at  last  he  was  victorious. 

Once  more  the  political  elements  were  in  agitation,  and 
Grattan  appeared  as  the  guiding  spirit  of  the  storm.  He 
was  formed  by  nature  to  be  a  great  parliamentary  leader. 
No  difficulties  could  repress  his  zeal,  no  dangers  could 


58 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


daunt  him.  lie  was  the  Chatham  of  the  Irish  senate.  Like 
that  great  orator,  one  glance  of  his  lordly  eye  cowed  the 
slaves  of  the  court.  His  powerful  voice  reassured  the  timid 
patriot.  He  had  to  defy  the  haughtiness  of  those  in  power, 
and  to  combat  the  irresolution  and  cowardice  of  his  own 
party.  But  he  was  equal  to  all  emergencies.  He  was 
alike  powerful  in  attack  and  in  reply.  His  voice  reverber¬ 
ated  through  the  nation.  “  There  he  was,”  said  Curran, 
“  exerting  an  eloquence  more  than  human,  inspiring,  form¬ 
ing,  directing,  animating,  to  the  great  purposes  of  your  sal¬ 
vation.”  I  do  not  know  that  the  two  men  have  ever  been 
compared,  but  the  figure  of  Grattan,  standing  on  the  floor 
of  the  House  of  Commons,  with  his  short,  thick-set  person, 
in  his  body  all  compact,  and  in  his  style  abrupt,  Condensed, 
vehement,  seems  strikingly  like  that  of  his  cotemporary 
Mirabeau,  with  his  gnarled  and  knotted  frame,  and  his 
shaggy  head,  rolling  from  the  French  tribune  those  thun¬ 
ders  which  shook  the  continent. 

Great  crises  produce  great  men.  The  criterion  of  a 
good  citizen,  according  to  Demosthenes,  is  to  grow  with  the 
growth,  and  to  decay  with  the  decline  of  our  country.  By 
this  rule  we  judge  that  Ireland  was  now  bursting  into  a  new 
life,  for  never,  in  all  her  history,  was  there  such  an  array 
of  genius  gathered  in  her  capital.  And  in  those  days  of 
degeneracy,  in  a  time  of  defection,  when  many  were  ready 
to  sell  their  country,  it  is  delightful  to  find  so  much  of 
what  was  noblest  still  arrayed  on  the  side  of  poor,  op¬ 
pressed  Ireland. 

But  the  wave  of  revolution  never  rolls  back.  And 


THE  REFORM  OF  PARLIAMENT. 


59 


now  that  legislative  independence  was  obtained,  those  who 
carried  it  determined  to  make  it  available  for  the  good  of 
the  nation.  The  volunteers  came  forward  in  a  body,  and 
demanded  a  reform  in  the  representation  of  the  country. 
A  convention  of  delegates — constituting  a  military  con¬ 
gress — assembled  in  Dublin,  to  urge  their  demands  in 
a  tone  of  authority.  They  demanded  that  rotten  bor¬ 
oughs  should  be  abolished,  and  that  men  holding  offices 
under  government,  or  receiving  pensions,  should  not  be 
allowed  at  the  same  time  to  sit  in  parliament.  While  this 
congress  was  sitting,  the  great  Harry  Flood,  the  rival  of 
Grattan  in  eloquence  and  fame,  but  his  co-laborer  in  this 
work  of  reform,  appeared  in  the  House  of  Commons, 
dressed  in  the  volunteer  uniform,  and  surrounded  by  other 
members  in  the  same  military  array,  some  of  whom  were 
delegates,  and  brought  forward  a  motion  for  the  reform  of 
parliament.  The  house  was  thrown  into  a  tempest.  Threats 
were  heard  in  the  hall,  answered  by  shouts  of  defiance.  An 
eye-witness  describes  the  scene  as  “  almost  terrific.”  But 
the  motion  was  finally  voted  down.  They  had  not  yet 
learned  the  power  of  popular  enthusiasm  inflamed  with 
the  idea  of  liberty. 

The  spirit  of  the  people  had  been  excited  by  their  re¬ 
cent  victory.  The  demand  for  redress  grew  louder.  The 
resistance  of  the  government  was  artful  and  persevering. 
Session  after  session  they  succeeded  in  evading  the  popular 
demands,  when  suddenly  the  French  Revolution  broke 
forth,  and  convulsed  all  Europe.  The  American  Revolu¬ 
tion  had  lighted  the  spark  of  liberty  in  Ireland,  and  now 
the  French  Revolution  blew  it  into  a  flame. 


CO 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


Ilacl  England  at  this  time  been  governed  by  wise  coun¬ 
sels  ;  had  her  statesmen  recognized  the  new  spirit  of  lib¬ 
erty  which  was  abroad  in  the  earth,  and  yielded  to  it  by 
timely  and  just  reforms,  she  would  have  bound  Ireland  to 
herself  by  the  strongest  ties  of  affection  and  interest ;  she 
would  have  had  a  faithful  nation  join  its  destiny  with  hers, 
which  would  have  made  the  United  Kingdom  invincible 
against  Europe  combined.  But,  instead  of  this,  they  op¬ 
posed  every  measure  of  relief.  And  when  any  refonn  was 
extorted  from  them,  it  was  yielded  slowly,  reluctantly,  and 
with  such  a  bad  will,  that  it  lost  all  the  grace  of  conces¬ 
sion.  So  far  from  affording  redress,  they  adopted  coercive 
measures  to  silence  the  complaints  of  the  people,  the 
method  most  calculated  to  exasperate,  and  to  provoke  open 
resistance.  They  did  not  at  all  consider  the  current  of  the 
age,  nor  the  temper  of  the  Irish  nation.  Hatred  of  France, 
hatred  of  popery,  and  the  obstinate  bigotry  of  George  III., 
rendered  them  deaf  to  all  measures  of  conciliation.  An 
instance  of  more  blind  misgovernment  the  world  has  never 
seen.  The  consequence  was  that,  plunging  into  a  war  with 
half  Europe,  she  had,  at  the  same  moment,  to  guard  against 
insurrection  at  home.  With  one  arm  stretched  out  to  offer 
battle  to  the  continent,  she  had  to  reach  back  the  other  to 
hold  down  prostrate  Ireland. 

What  woes  this  policy  brought  upon  that  unhappy 
country  we  shall  now  see.  Henceforth,  her  way  lies 
through  blood  and  tears. 


CHAPTER,  V. 


Curran. — His  Boyhood. — College  Life. — Is  Destined  for  toe  Church. — 
Studies  Law. —  His  Conversation. — Wit,  Humor  and  Pathos. — Consti¬ 
tutional  Melancholy.— His  Eloquence. — Defends  a  Catholic  Priest. — 
The  State  Trials. — Love  of  Ireland. 

( 

The  next  year  after  the  exertions  of  Grattan  had  se¬ 
cured  the  independence  of  the  Irish  legislature,  and  just  as 
the  great  question  of  reform  began  to  loom  up  in  the  po¬ 
litical  horizon,  there  entered  parliament  another  man, 
whose  name  is  imperishably  connected  with  the  history  of 
Ireland,  John  Philpot  Curran.  Of  a  slight  and  ungainly 
figure,  there  was  nothing  about  him  to  overawe  a  legisla¬ 
tive  assembly.  Grattan  was  the  colossus  of  debate.  Cur¬ 
ran,  like  a  skillful  gladiator,  played  round  the  arena,  and 
sometimes  thrusting  himself  into  the  lists  in  the  lighter 
armor  of  his  wit,  carried  off  the  victory  where  his  giant 
ally  would  have  been  less  successful.  But  in  truth  this 
was  not  his  proper  theater.  He  came  into  the  Parliament- 
house  in  the  evening,  after  having  been  all  day  in  court. 
He  was  then  jaded  in  body  and  mind,  and  chose  rather  to 
listen  than  to  speak.  As  Grattan  was  most  at  home  in 
parliament,  Curran  was  most  in  his  element  at  the  bar.  It 
was  in  the  Four  Courts  that  he  rose  above  all  other  men; 


62 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


that  he  won  the  reputation  of  being  the  most  eloquent  ad¬ 
vocate  that  Ireland  had  ever  produced. 

But  it  is  on  other  accounts  that  Curran  deserves  a  more 
minute  sketch  in  this  history.  He  represents,  perhaps 
more  than  any  of  his  celebrated  countrymen,  the  Irish 
character — a  nature  compounded  of  imagination  and  sensi¬ 
bility.  Though  of  less  kingly  intellect  than  Grattan,  he 
was  of  a  warmer  temperament,  and  more  fitted  to  be  a 
popular  idol. 

Curran  sprang  from  the  people.  He  was  born  at  New¬ 
market,  an  obscure  town  in  the  county  of  Cork,  in  1750 — • 
being  thus  four  years  younger  than  Grattan.  On  the 
father’s  side  he  was  descended  from  one  of  Cromwell’s  sol¬ 
diers.  Passing  his  childhood  in  the  country,  he  was  thrown 
much  among  the  people.  He  loved  to  recall  the  days  when 
he  played  marbles  in  the  street  of  Newmarket,  or  assumed 
the  part  of  Punch’s  man  at  a  country  fair.  He  loved  to 
visit  the  peasantry  in  their  cabins,  and  to  listen  to  their 
tales.  There  he  saw  the  Irish  character — its  wit,  its  humor, 
its  sensibility  to  mirth  and  tears.  There  too,  in  those  rough 
natures,  which  appear  so  sullen  and  savage  when  brought 
face  to  face  with  their  oppressors,  he  found  the  finest  and 
tenderest  affections  of  the  human  heart.  There  too  he 
found  a  natural  poetry  and  eloquence.  He  was  a  constant 
attendant  at  the  weddings  and  wakes  of  his  neighborhood. 
It  was  customary  at  that  time  to  employ  hired  mourners 
for  the  dead,  and  their  wild  and  solemn  lamentations  struck 
his  youthful  imagination.  In  after-years,  he  acknowledged 
that  his  first  ideas  of  eloquence  were  derived  from  listen¬ 
ing  to  the  laments  of  mourners  at  the  Irish  burials. 


DESTINED  TO  THE  CHURCE 


63 


When  transferred  to  Trinity  College  in  Dublin,  he  be¬ 
came  distinguished  chiefly  for  his  social  powers.  Full  of 
the  exuberant  life  of  youth,  overflowing  with  spirits,  and 
fond  of  fun  and  frolic,  he  was  always  a  welcome  compan¬ 
ion  among  the  students. 

Ilis  mother  had  destined  him  for  the  church.  When 
he  came  out  of  College,  his  tastes  took  another  turn.  But 
his  mother  never  got  over  her  disappointment  at  his  not 
being  a  preacher.  Not  even  his  brilliant  reputation  at  the 
bar  and  in  parliament,  could  satisfy  her  maternal  heart. 
She  lived  to  see  the  nation  hanging  on  the  lips  of  this  al¬ 
most  inspired  orator.  Yet  even  then  she  would  lament 
over  him,  “  0  Jacky,  Jacky,  what  a  preacher  was  lost  in 
you  !”  Her  friends  reminded  her  that  she  had  lived  to  see 
her  son  one  of  the  judges  of  the  land.  “  Don’t  speak  to 
me  of  judges ,”  she  would  reply,  “John  was  fit  for  any 
thing ;  and  had  he  but  followed  our  advice,  it  might  here¬ 
after  be  written  upon  my  tomb  that  I  had  died  the  mother 
of  a  bishop. 

But  no  one  as  yet  knew  that  he  had  extraordinary 
talent  for  eloquence.  Indeed  he  did  not  suspect  it  him¬ 
self.  In  his  boyhood  he  had  a  confusion  in  his  utterance, 
from  which  he  was  called  by  his  school-fellows  “stuttering 
Jack  Curran.”  It  was  not  until  many  years  after,  while 
studying  law  at  the  Temple,  that  he  found  out  that  he 
could  speak.  After  his  fame  was  established,  a  friend 
dining  with  him  one  day,  could  not  repress  his  admiration 
of  Curran’s  eloquence,  and  remarked  that  it  must  have 
been  born  with  him.  “Indeed,  my  dear  sir,”  replied 


64 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


Curran,  “  it  was  not,  it  was  born  twenty-three  years  and 
some  months  after  me.”  But  when  he  had  made  the  im¬ 
portant  discovery  of  this  concealed  power,  he  employed 
every  means  to  render  his  elocution  perfect.  He  accus¬ 
tomed  himself  to  speak  very  slowly  to  correct  his  precipi¬ 
tate  utterance.  He  practiced  before  a  glass  to  make  his 
gestures  graceful.  He  spoke  aloud  the  most  celebrated 
orations.  One  piece  he  was  never  weary  of  repeating,  the 
speech  of  Antony  over  the  body  of  Caesar.  This  he  re¬ 
commended  to  his  young  friends  at  the  bar  as  a  model  of 
eloquence. 

And  yet  while  he  thus  used  art  to  smooth  a  channel  for 
his  thoughts  to  flow  in,  no  man’s  eloquence  ever  issued 
more  freshly  and  spontaneously  from  the  heart.  It  was  al¬ 
ways  the  heart  of  the  man  that  spoke.  It  was  because  his 
own  emotions  were  so  intense,  that  he  possessed  such  power 
over  the  feelings  of  others. 

His  natural  sympathies  were  strong.  Like  every  truly 
great  man,  he  was  simple  as  a  child.  He  had  all  those 
tastes  which  mark  a  genuine  man.  He  loved  nature.  He 
loved  children.  He  sympathized  with  the  poor.  It  was 
perhaps  from  these  popular  sympathies  that  he  preferred 
Rousseau  among  the  French  writers,  and  that  his  friend¬ 
ship  was  so  strong  with  Mr.  Godwin. 

His  nature  was  all  sensibility.  He  was  most  keenly 
alive  to  gay,  or  to  mournful  scenes.  He  had  a  boyish 
love  of  fun  and  frolic.  He  entered  into  sports  with  infi¬ 
nite  glee.  In  these  things  he  remained  a  child  to  the  end 
of  his  days ;  while  in  sensibility  to  tears  he  had  the  heart 


POWERS  OF  CONVERSATION. 


G5 


of  a  woman.  Thus  to  the  last  hour  of  life  he  kept  his 
affections  fresh  and  flowing. 

He  had  the  delicate  organization  of  genius.  His  frame 
vibrated  to  music  like  an  Eolian  harp.  He  had  the  most 
exquisite  relish  for  the  beauties  of  poetry.  He  was  extrav¬ 
agantly  fond  of  works  of  imagination.  He  devoured 
romances.  And  when  in  his  reading  he  met  with  a 
passage  which  gratified  his  taste,  he  was  never  weary  of 
repeating  it  to  himself,  or  reading  it  to  the  friends  who 
came  to  see  him. 

In  conversation,  perhaps  the  most  prominent  faculty 
of  his  mind  was  fancy, — sportive,  playful,  tender,  and 
pathetic.  His  conversation  was  a  stream  which  never 
ceased  to  flow.  His  brilliant  imagination,  and  the  warmth 
with  which  he  entered  into  every  thing,  gave  it  a  peculiar 
fascination.  Byron  said  that  Curran  had  spoken  more 
poetry  than  any  man  had  ever  written.  In  a  circle  of 
genial  friends,  after  dinner,  his  genius  was  in  its  finest 
action.  His  countenance  lighted  up,  and  his  conversation, 
beginning  to  flow,  now  sparkled,  now  ran  like  wine. 
Flashes  of  wit  played  round  him.  Mirth  gleamed  from 
his  eye  and  shot  from  his  tongue.  He  had  an  endless 
'store  of  anecdote,  to  which  his  extraordinary  dramatic 
talent  enabled  him  to  give  the  happiest  effect.  He  told 
stories,  and  hitting  off  the  points  of  Irish  character  by  the 
most  exquisite  mimicry,  he  “set  the  table  on  a  roar,” 
following  perhaps  with  some  touching  tale  which  instantly 
brought  tears  into  every  eye.  “You  wept,”  says  Phillips, 
“  and  you  laughed,  and  you  wondered ;  and  the  wonderful 
creature,  who  made  you  do  all  at  will,  never  let  it  appear 


66 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


i 


that  he  was  more  than  jour  equal,  and  was  quite  willing, 
if  you  chose,  to  become  your  auditor.” 

The  wit  of  Curran  was  spontaneous.  It  was  the 
creation  of  the  moment,  the  electric  sparks  shot  from  a 
mind  overcharged  with  imagery  and  feeling.  In  this  it 
differed  from  the  wit  of  another  great  Irishman.  Sheridan 
had  more  of  the  actor  about  him.  His  brilliant  sayings 
were  prepared  beforehand.  He  aimed  at  display  in  the 
receptions  at  Holland  House  as  much  as  when  writing  a 
comedy  for  Drury  Lane. 

Perhaps  no  foreigner,  who  has  visited  England,  has  had 
a  better  opportunity  of  seeing  its  distinguished  men,  than 
Madame  De  Stael.  She  was  constantly  surrounded  by  the 
most  brilliant  society  of  London.  Yet  even  in  that  blaze 
of  genius,  she  was  most  struck,  as  she  often  told  her 
friends,  with  the  conversational  powers  of  Curran.  This 
too,  was  in  1813,  when  his  health  had  sunk,  and  his  spirits 
were  so  depressed,  as  to  make  it  an  effort  to  support  his 
part  at  all  in  society. 

From  the  vivacity  of  his  conversation,  one  would 
hardly  have  suspected  the  depth  and  seriousness  of  his 
character.  In  talking  with  ladies  or  with  young  persons, 
his  mind  was  remarkable  for  its  constant  playfulness.  A 
gleam  of  sunshine  illumined  his  whole  being.  Yet  those 
who  knew  him  intimately  were  aware  that  he  was  subject 
all  his  life  to  constitutional  melancholy.  Like  many  other 
men  celebrated  for  their  wit,  his  gayety  alternated  with 
deep  depression.  The  truth  was  that  he  sympathized  too 
intensely  with  the  scenes  of  real  life,  to  be  uniformly  gay. 
In  his  country  he  saw  so  much  to  sadden  him,  that  his 


CHARACTER  OF  HIS  ELOQUENCE. 


67 


feelings  took  a  melancholy  tone.  The  transition  was  often 
instantaneous  from  humor  to  pathos.  His  friends,  who 
saw  him  in  his  lighter  moods,  were  surprised  at  the  sudden 
change  of  his  countenance.  “  In  grave  conversation,  his 
voice  was  remarkable  for  a  certain  plaintive  sincerity  of 
tone,  ” — a  sadness  which  fascinated  the  listener  like  mo  urn- 
fid  music. 

In  his  eloquence  appeared  the  same  transitions  of 
feeling  and  variety  of  talent.  He  could  descend  to  the 
dryest  details  of  law  or  evidence.  Thomas  Addis  Emmet, 
who,  though  younger,  practiced  at  the  same  bar,  says  that 
Curran  possessed  a  logical  head.  From  this  he  could  rise 
to  the  highest  flights  of  imagination,  and  it  was  here,  and 
in  appeals  to  the  feelings,  that  he  was  most  at  home. 
Sometimes  his  wit  ran  away  with  him.  His  fancy  was  let 
off  like  a  display  of  fireworks.  It  flew  like  a  thousand 
rockets,  darting,  whizzing,  buzzing,  lighting  up  the  sky 
with  fantastic  shapes. 

By  turns  he  could  use  the  lightest  or  the  heaviest 
weapon,  as  suited  the  object  of  his  attack.  Where 
ethereal  wit  or  playful  irony  were  likely  to  be  thrown 
away  upon  some  gross  and  insensible  subject,  he  could 
:  point  the  keenest  edge  of  ridicule,  or  the  coarsest  invective, 
or  the  most  withering  sarcasm. 

When  dissecting  the  character  of  a  perjured  witness, 
he  seemed  to  delight  in  making  him  feel  the  knife.  His 
>  victim,  at  such  a  time,  appeared  like  an  insect  whom  he 
had  lanced  with  a  needle,  and  was  holding  up  to  the 
laughter  and  scorn  of  the  world.  Thus,  when  treating  the 
evidence  of  O'Brien,  a  hired  informer,  who  had  come  on 


GS 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


the  stand  to  swear  away  the  lives  of  men  whom  the 
government  had  determined  to  sacrifice,  Curran  apostro¬ 
phized  the  patriotic  individual,  “  Dearest,  sweetest,  Mr. 
James  O’Brien,”  exposing  the  utter  rottenness  of  his 
character  in  a  tone  of  irony,  until  the  man,  who  had  a 
forehead  of  brass,  was  forced  to  slink  back  into  the  crowd, 
and  to  escape  from  the  court. 

So  in  his  place  in  parliament,  when  exposing  the  cor¬ 
ruption  of  the  officers  of  government,  he  did  not  spare 
nor  have  pity.  A  swarm  of  blood-suckers  had  fastened 
on  the  state,  who  were  growing  fat  from  draining  the  life 
of  their  unhappy  country.  Curran  proclaimed  the  im¬ 
maculate  virtue  of  “those  saints  on  the  pension  list,  that 
are  like  lilies  of  the  field,— they  toil  not,  neither  do  they 
spin,  but  they  are  arrayed  like  Solomon  in  his  glory.” 
The  extent  to  which  this  corruption  had  gone  was  in¬ 
credible.  “This  polyglot  of  wealth,”  said  Curran,  “this 
museum  of  curiosities,  the  pension  list,  embraces  every 
link  in  the  human  chain,  every  description  of  men, 
women,  and  children,  from  the  exalted  excellence  of  a 
Hawke  or  a  Bodney,  to  the  debased  situation  of  the  lady 
who  humbleth  herself  that  she  may  be  exalted.”  The 
road  to  advancement  at  that  day  in  Ireland,  to  the  peer¬ 
age,  to  the  judicial  bench,  was  to  betray  the  country. 
Curran  branded  those  who  thus  came  into  power  by  one 
of  the  strongest  figures  in  English  eloquence.  “Those 
foundlings  of  fortune,  overwhelmed  in  the  torrent  of  cor¬ 
ruption  at  an  early  period,  lay  at  the  bottom  like  drowned 
bodies,  while  soundness  or  sanity  remained  in  them ;  but 
at  length  becoming  buoyant  by  putrefaction,  they  rose  aE 


HIS  PATHOS. 


69 


they  rotted,  and  floated  to  the  surface  of  the  polluted 
stream,  where  they  were  drifted  along,  the  objects  of 
terror,  and  contagion,  and  abomination.” 

At  the  bar  he  often  indulged  in  sallies  of  wit,  and  thus 
conciliated  the  attention  of  the  court.  His  delicate  satire, 
his  comical  turns  of  thought,  convulsed  the  court  with 
laughter.  Then  suddenly  he  stopped,  his  lip  quivered, 
his  sentences  grew  slow  and  measured,  and  he  poured  forth 
strains  of  the  deepest  pathos,  as  he  pictured  the  wrongs  of 
his  country,  or  lamented  the  companions  of  other  days, 
the  illustrious  departed,  “  over  whose  ashes  the  most  pre¬ 
cious  tears  of  Ireland  had  been  shed.”  His  voice  excelled 
in  the  utterance  of  plaintive  emotions,  and  the  homage 
which  had  been  paid  to  his  eloquence  by  mirth,  was  now 
paid  in  the  sound  of  suppressed  weeping,  which  alone 
broke  the  deathlike  stillness  of  the  room.  In  pleading  for 
one  on  trial  for  his  life,  his  voice  subsided  toward  the  close, 
and  sunk  away  in  tones  of  solemnity  and  supplication. 
Thus  would  he  say,  “  Sweet  is  the  recollection  of  having 
done  justice  in  that  hour  when  the  hand  of  death  presses 
on  the  human  heart !  Sweet  is  the  hope  which  it  gives 
birth  to!  From  you  I  demand  that  justice  for  my  client, 
your  innocent  and  unfortunate  fellow-subject  at  the  bar ; 
and  may  you  have  it  for  a  more  lasting  reward  than  the 
perishable  crown  we  read  of,  which  the  ancients  placed  on 
the  brow  of  him  who  saved  in  battle  the  life  of  a  fellow- 
citizen  !” 

But  the  trait  which  appears  most  conspicuous  in  the 
public  efforts  of  Curran,  and  which  made  him  the  idol  of 
his  countrymen,  was  his  enthusiastic  love  of  Ireland.  Says 


10 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


his  biographer,  “  Ireland  was  the  choice  of  his  youth,  and 
was  from  first  to  last  regarded  by  him,  not  so  much  with 
the  feelings  of  a  patriot,  as  with  the  romantic  idolatry  of  a 
lover.”  In  early  life  he  had  learned  to  love  the  Irish 
peasantry,  and  no  lapse  of  time  could  chill  his  affection. 
No  temptation  of  office  could  seduce  him  from  the  side  of 
the  poor  and  the  oppressed.  He  knew  their  noble  quali¬ 
ties,  and  his  bosom  burned  at  the  wrongs  which  they  suf¬ 
fered. 

One  of  his  first  causes  at  the  bar  was  pleading  for  a 
Catholic  priest  who  had  been  brutally  assaulted  by  a  noble¬ 
man.  Such  was  the  fear  of  incurring  the  displeasure  of  a 
lord,  that  no  one  dared  to  undertake  the  prosecution,  until 
Curran  stepped  forward,  then  a  young  lawyer.  His  effort 
was  successful.  Not  long  after  the  priest  was  called  away 
from  the  world.  He  sent  for  Curran  to  his  bedside.  Hold 
and  silver  he  had  none.  But  he  gave  him  all  in  his  power, 
the  benediction  of  a  dying  man.  He  caused  himself  to  be 
raised  up  in  his  bed,  and  stretching  out  his  trembling- 
hands  to  place  them  upon  the  head  of  his  defender,  in¬ 
voked  for  him  the  blessing  of  the  Almighty.  Such  scenes 
as  this,  while  they  excited  the  enthusiasm  of  the  Catholic 
population  throughout  Ireland  for  the  young  advocate, 
who  had  dared  to  defend  a  priest  of  their  proscribed  re¬ 
ligion,  at  the  same  time  strengthened  his  determination  to 
make  common  cause  with  his  countrymen  in  their  suffer¬ 
ings.  E 

As  the  most  important  cases  in  which  it  was  his  fortune 
to  be  engaged  at  the  bar  were  political  trials,  he  had  con-  * 
stant  occasion  to  refer  to  the  state  of  his  country.  The 


LOVE  OF  HIS  COUNTRY. 


71 


theme  seemed  to  kindle  in  laim  a  new  eloquence  of  indig¬ 
nation.  Often  in  the  midst  of  a  plea  at  the  bar,  lie  fixed 
his  glittering  eye  on  the  court,  and  poured  forth  a  most 
vehement  appeal  for  liberty  and  for  Ireland.  Thus,  in  his 
celebrated  defense  of  Hamilton  Eowan,  he  invokes  the 
spirit  of  English  liberty  in  a  passage  which  has  become  one 
of  the  commonplaces  of  literature :  “I  speak  in  the  spirit 
of  the  British  law,  which  makes  liberty  commensurate  with, 
and  inseparable  from,  British  soil ;  which  proclaims  even 
to  the  stranger  and  the  sojourner,  the  moment  he  sets  his 
foot  upon  British  earth,  that  the  ground  on  which  he  treads 
is  holy,  and  consecrated  by  the  genius  of  universal  eman¬ 
cipation.  Ho  matter  in  what  language  his  doom  may  have 
been  pronounced — no  matter  what  complexion,  incompati¬ 
ble  with  freedom,  an  Inchan  or  an  African  sun  may  have 
burnt  upon  him — no  matter  in  what  disastrous  battle  his 
liberty  may  have  been  cloven  down — no  matter  with  what 
solemnities  he  may  have  been  devoted  upon  the  altar  of 
slavery ;  the  moment  he  touches  the  sacred  soil  of  Britain, 
the  altar  and  the  god  sink  together  in  the  dust ;  his  soul 
walks  abroad  in  her  own  majesty ;  his  body  swells  beyond 
the  measure  of  his  chains,  which  burst  from  around  him, 
and  he  stands  redeemed,  regenerated,  and  disenthralled, 
by  the  irresistible  genius  of  universal  emancipation.” 

;  At  this  passage  the  decorum  of  the  court  gave  way  to 
a  burst  of  irrepressible  enthusiasm ;  the  house  rang  with  tu¬ 
multuous  applause,  and  it  was  some  time  before  order  was 
50  far  restored,  that  Mr.  Curran  was  enabled  to  proceed. 
A.t  the  conclusion  of  the  speech  the  same  tumult  again 
ourst  forth,  and  at  his  leaving  the  court,  the  populace  were 


72 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


so  wild  witli  joy,  that  they  took  the  horses  from  his  car¬ 
riage,  and  themselves  drew  him  home  in  triumph.* 

It  is  melancholy  to  reflect  that  efforts  so  great  for  the 
liberty  and  happiness  of  Ireland,  were  not  crowned  with 
complete  success.  But  the  patriotism  and  the  courage 
were  not  less  noble  because  overborne  by  superior  power. 
It  is  the  honor  of  Curran  that  he  loved  Ireland  in  her  woe, 
and  loved  her  to  the  last.  Toward  the  close  of  life  he 
said,  “  To  our  unhappy  country,  what  I  had,  I  gave.  I  i 
might  have  often  sold  her.  I  could  not  redeem  her.  J  III 
gave  her  the  best  sympathies  of  my  heart,  sometimes  in 
tears,  sometimes  in  indignation,  sometimes  in  hope,  but 
oftener  in  despondence.” 

The  history  of  Ireland,  sad  as  it  is,  is  bright  with  many 
instances  of  such  patriotic  affection.  We  shall  have  con¬ 
stant  occasion  to  observe  them  in  the  history  of  the  strug¬ 
gle  which  we  are  now  to  trace,  f 

*  It  may  gratify  the  friends  of  the  late  Mr.  Sampson,  to  know  that  he  sat 
beside  Curran  through  the  whole  of  that  memorable  defense,  and  that  to  his 
rapid  pen  we  owe  the  report  of  this,  the  best  preserved  of  all  Curran’s 
speeches.  When  he  had  finished,  he  bent  over  Sampson,  who  was  writing 
down  the  conclusion,  and  asked  him  if  he  was  satisfied  with  him.  Sampsor 
assented,  but  added,  “  You  might  have  said  something  of  Russell  and  Sidney.’ 
Curran  instantly  rose,  and  reminded  the  court  that  they  were  acting,  not  foi 
the  present  alone,  but  that  their  conduct  would  live  in  history,  and  concludei  j 
by  comparing  the  feelings  with  which  posterity  would  review  the  transac 
tions  of  that  day,  to  the  emotions  which  overflowed  in  their  hearts,  at  read 
ing  the  sad  history  of  the  sufferings  of  a  Russell  or  a  Sidney. 

\  Those  who  would  know  more  of  this  most  remarkable  man,  I  must  re 
fer  to  the  admirable  memoir,  by  his  son — and  also  to  “  Recollections  of  Cur  1 
ran,”  by  Charles  Phillips,  which  Lord  Brougham  commends  as  “  the  mos 
lively  and  picturesque  piece  of  biography  ever  given  to  the  world.” 

See  his  Sketches  of  British  Statesmen  of  tbeTime  of  George  IH. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

Theobald  Wolfe  Tone. — His  Early  Life. — Marriage. — Studies  Law. — 
Project  of  a  Military  Expedition  to  the  South  Seas. — Settles  in 
Dublin. — Friendship  with  Emmet  and  Russell. 

A  different  character  comes  on  the  stage.  "We  have 
seen  the  orator  defending  his  countrymen  at  the  bar  and 
in  the  senate.  We  are  now  to  trace  the  steps  by  which  a 
political  reformer  becomes  a  revolutionist.  We  are  to  see 
an  organizer  of  parties  and  of  peaceful  reforms  turning 
into  a  conspirator  and  a  soldier — an  organizer  of  armies 
and  invasions.  We  derogate  nothing  from  the  many 
prominent  men  of  this  period,  in  assigning  the  first  place  in 
the  designs  of  revolution  to  Theobald  Wolfe  Tone,  the 
founder  of  the  United  Irishmen,  and  the  chief  agent  in  ne¬ 
gotiating  the  subsequent  French  invasions. 

This  extraordinary  man  was  born  in  Dublin,  June  20, 
1763.  From  childhood  he  seemed  destined  for  a  life  of 
adventure.  Though  of  an  active  mind,  he  hated  books. 
He  was  fond  of  sports,  walking  to  the  country,  swimming 
in  the  sea ;  and  especially  of  that  which  is  the  delight  of 
every  idle  boy — military  parades.  The  garrison  of  Dublin 
was  often  reviewed  in  Phcenix  Park,  and  the  sight  of  their 
brilliant  uniforms,  their  swords  and  plumes,  with  their 

D 


74  THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 

quick  evolutions,  ancl  the  inspiring  sound  of  martial  music, 
awoke  kis  ambition  to  be  a  soldier — a  desire  which  pur¬ 
sued  him  through-  years,  and  which  he  Avas  at  length  able 
to  gratify. 

When  forced  to  apply  himself  to  study,  the  natural 
quickness  of  his  mind  caused  him  to  make  rapid  progress. 
At  the  age  of  seventeen  he  entered  the  University  of 
Dublin,  where  he  distinguished  himself  particularly  as  a 
writer  and  speaker. 

“  At  length,  about  the  beginning  of  the  year  1785,” — ■ 
to  quote  from  his  autobiography — “I  became  acquainted 
with  my  wife.  She  Avas  the  daughter  of  William  Wither- 
ington,  and  lived  at  that  time  in  Grafton-street,  in  the 
house  of  her  grandfather,  a  rich  old  clergyman  of  the  name 
of  Fanning.  I  Avas  then  a  scholar  of  the  house  in  the 
University ;  and  every  day,  after  commons,  I  used  to  Avalk 
under  her  windows  with  one  or  the  other  of  my  felloAV- 
students.  I  soon  greAV  passionately  fond  of  her,  and  she 
also  was  struck  Avith  me,  though  certainly  my  appearance, 
neither  then  nor  noAV,  Avas  much  in  my  favor ;  so  it  Avas, 
however,  that  before  Ave  had  ever  spoken  to  each  other,  a 
mutual  affection  had  commenced  between  us.  She  Avas  at 
this  time  not  sixteen  years  of  age,  and  as  beautiful  as  an 
angel.  She  had  a  brother  some  years  older  than  herself; 
and  as  it  was  necessary  for  my  admission  to  the  family, 
that  I  should  be  first  acquainted  Avitk  him,  I  soon  con¬ 
trived  to  be  introduced  to  him ;  and  as  he  played  well  on 
the  violin,  and  I  Avas  myself  a  musical  man,  we  grew  inti¬ 
mate,  the  more  so,  as  it  may  well  be  supposed  I  neglected 
no  fair  means  to  recommend  myself  to  him  and  the  rest  of 


PROJECTS  AN  EXPEDITION. 


75 


tlie  family,  with  whom  I  soon  grew  a  favorite.  My  affairs 
now  advanced  prosperously ;  my  wife  and  I  grew  more 
passionately  fond  of  each  other ;  and  in  a  short  time  I  pro¬ 
posed  to  her  to  marry  me,  without  asking  consent  of  any 
one,  knowing  well  it  would  be  in  vain  to  expect  it.  She 
accepted  the  proposal  as  frankly  as  I  made  it,  and  one 
beautiful  morning  in  the  month  of  July  we  ran  off  to¬ 
gether  and  were  married.  I  carried  her  out  of  town  to 
Maynooth  for  a  few  days,  and  when  the  first  eclat  of 
passion  had  subsided,  we  were  forgiven  on  all  sides,  and 
settled  in  lodgings  near  my  wife’s  grandfather.  I  was  now 
for  a  short  time  as  happy  as  possible,  in  the  possession  of 
a  beautiful  creature  that  I  adored,  and  who  every  hour 
grew  more  and  more  upon  my  heart.” 

But  he  had  soon  to  break  away  from  his  young  wife  to 
go  to  pursue  his  studies  at  the  Temple  in  London.  A 
year  later  his  brother  returned  from  a  voyage  to  St. 
Helena,  and  joined  him.  The  story  of  his  wanderings 
upon  the  stormy  deep  fired  the  adventurous  spirit  of  Tone. 
He  conceived  a  project  of  planting  a  military  colony  in 
the  Sandwich  Islands.  -  He  studied  the  position  of  these 
islands  on  the  map,  midway  between  Asia  and  America. 
He  considered  their  latitude, in  the  temperate  zone  ;  their 
mild  climate  and  clear  sky,  their  harbors  for  shipping, 
their  mountains  and  inland  valleys,  their  soil  and  fruits. 
His  imagination  reveled  in  dreams  of  green  and  flowery 
islands,  in  far-off  summer  seas ;  of  lying  under  the  cocoa 
palms,  and  having  the  ready  food  from  the  bread-fruit 
trees,  dropping  around  their  tents.  But  with  these  tropi¬ 
cal  visions  he  coupled  the  military  spirit  of  Cortez.  In 


76 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


maturing  his  plan,  he  read  every  hook  he  could  find  relat¬ 
ing  to  South  America,  the  voyages  of  Ulloa,  Anson,  Dam- 
pierre  and  others,  and  especially  the  tales  of  the  daring 
buccaniers,  who  had  been  the  terror  of  those  seas.  The 
Sandwich  Islands  lay  in  the  track  of  the  Spanish  galleons 
from  the  Philippine  Islands  to  the  western  coast  of 
America.  These  he  proposed  to  intercept  by  sending  out 
privateers.  But  the  main  design  was  to  assail  the  Spanish 
possessions  in  South  America.  He  dreamed  of  another 
conquest  of  Peru — of  marching  in  the  steps  of  Pizarro  to 
the  throne  of  the  Incas.  Subsequently  he  extended  his 
views  farther  to  an  invasion  of  Mexico.  He  had  learned 
the  internal  state  of  New  Spain ;  that  the  people  were  sub¬ 
jected  to  a  cruel  slavery,  and  were  desirous  of  a  revolu¬ 
tion.  To  aid  them  to  throw  off  their  yoke  would  cripple 
the  power  of  Spain,  and  turn  the  treasures  of  her  silver 
mines  into  England.  He  therefore  proposed  these  schemes 
to  the  English  government  as  war  measures.  Several 
years  later  he  had  some  correspondence  on  this  subject 
with  Lord  Grenville  and  the  Duke  of  Richmond.  But. 
the  government  was  too  much  engrossed  with  troubles 
nearer  home,  and  Tone  was  left  to  organize  revolutions  in  his 
own  country  instead  of  planting  colonies  in  the  South  Seas. 

Upon  his  return  from  London,  he  commenced  the 
practice  of  law  in  Dublin.  In  this,  he  continued  but  a 
year.  He  had  an  insuperable  aversion  to  the  law ;  and  the 
political  questions  which  now  agitated  Ireland,  and  the 
breaking  out  of  the  French  Revolution,  gave  a  new  turn 
to  his  thoughts,  and  opened  a  career  more  congenial  to 
his  ardent  mind. 


FRIENDSHIP  WITH  EMMET  AND  RUSSELL.  11 


It  was  at  this  period  that  his  life  was  most  happy. 
To  great  talents,  Tone  united  a  flow  of  spirits,  a  gayety 
of  heart  truly  Irish.  He  was  restored  to  a  wife  to  whom 
he  never  ceased  to  be  a  lover.  He  had  formed  an  ac¬ 
quaintance  with  Thomas  Addis  Emmet,  and  with  Russell, 
whom  he  ever  after  regarded  as  his  dearest  friends.  They 
agreed  in  their  tastes  and  in  their  political  opinions.  The 
friendship  of  these  young  patriots  bordered  on  romance. 
They  were  ready  to  die  for  each  other,  or  for  their  country, 
which  they  loved  as  a  mother.  As  we  are  admitted  to 
their  councils,  we  are  transported  back  to  the  league  of  the 
three  Swiss  confederates  on  the  field  of  Grutli.  Tone  had 
rented  a  cottage  by  the  sea-shore,  where  he  passed  the 
summer  of  1790,  and  here  Russell,  who  was  a  bachelor, 
almost  daily  dined  and  deliberated  with  him. 

“Russell  and  I  were  inseparable — I  recall  with  trans¬ 
port  the  happy  days  we  spent  together  during  that  period; 
the  delicious  dinners,  in  the  preparation  of  which  my  wife, 
Russell,  and  myself,  were  all  engaged ;  the  afternoon 
walks,  the  discussions  we  had,  as  we  lay  stretched  on  the 
grass.  It  was  delightful !  Sometimes  Russell’s  venerable 
father,  a  veteran  of  near  seventy,  with  the  courage  of  a 
hero,  the  serenity  of  a  philosopher,  and  the  piety  of  a 
saint,  used  to  visit  our  little  mansion,  and  that  day  was  a 
■fete.  My  wife  doated  on  the  old  man,  and  he  loved  her 
'like  one  of  his  children.  Russell’s  brother,  John,  too,  used 
to  visit  us ;  a  man  of  a  most  warm  and  affectionate  heart, 
and  incontestably  of  the  most  companionable  talents  I  ever 
met.  His  humor,  which  was  pure  and  natural,  flowed  in 
an  inexhaustible  stream.  He  had  not  the  strength  of 


^8 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


character  of  my  friend  Tom,  but  for  the  charms  of  conver¬ 
sation,  he  excelled  him,  and  all  the  world.  Sometimes, 
too,  my  brother  William  used  to  join  us  for  a  Aveek. 
When  the  two  Bussells,  my  brother  and  I,  were  assembled, 
it  is  impossible  to  conceive  of  a  happier  society.  I  know 
not  whether  our  wit  Avas  classical  or  not,  nor  does  it 
signify.  If  it  Avas  not  sterling,  at  least  it  passed  current 
among  ourselves.  If  I  may  judge,  Ave  were  none  of  us 
destitute  of  the  humor  indigenous  in  the  soil  of  Ireland. 
Those  were  delicious  days.  The  rich  and  great,  Avho  sit 
doAvn  every  day  to  the  monotony  of  a  splendid  entertain¬ 
ment,  can  form  no  idea  of  the  happiness  of  our  frugal 
meal,  nor  of  the  infinite  pleasure  we  found  in  taking  each 
his  part  in  the  preparation  and  attendance.  My  wife  was 
the  center  and  the  soul  of  all.  I  scarcely  know  which  of 
us  loved  her  best ;  her  courteous  manners,  her  goodness  I 
of  heart,  her  incomparable  humor,  her  never-failing  cheer¬ 
fulness,  her  affection  for  me  and  for  our  children,  rendered 
her  the  object  of  our  common  admiration  and  delight. 
She  loved  Bussell  as  well  as  I  did.  In  short,  a  more 
interesting  society  of  individuals,  connected  by  purer 
motives,  and  animated  by  a  more  ardent  attachment  and 
friendship  for  each  other,  can  not  be  imagined.” 


CHAPTER  VII. 

Tone  Enters  into  Poi.itics. — Division  of  Parties  in  Ireland. — He  En¬ 
deavors  to  Unite  the  Dissenters  and  Catholics — Founds  the  Society 
of  United  Irishmen. — Is  appointed  Secretary  to  the  Catholic  Com¬ 
mittee. — His  Efforts  in  their  Cause. 

Political  excitement  was  now  agitating  the  whole 
island.  It  was  hardly  ten  years  since  the  American 
Revolution,  the  morning  gun  of  liberty,  had  reverberated 
through  Europe,  like  a  heavy  explosion  rumbling  among 
the  Alps,  jarring  the  mountains  and  shaking  down  the 
avalanche.  Now  the  French  Revolution  was  in  full 
progress, 

“  With  fear  of  change  perplexing  monarch?.” 

The  sentiments  of  the  English  people  were  much 
divided  as  to  the  probable  result.  Burke  had  published 
his  powerful  invective  against  the  French  Revolution, 
lamenting  “  that  the  age  of  chivalry  was  gone,  and  that 
the  glory  of  Europe  was  extinguished  forever.”  Paine  had 
replied  with  the  Rights  of  Man.  The  controversy  divided 
the  nation.  Political  clubs  sprang  into  existence  in  all 
parts  of  the  kingdom.  Societies  looking  toward  revolu. 
tion,  and  holding  correspondence  with  France,  were  estab- 


80 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


listed  in  England  and  Scotland,  as  well  as  in  Ireland. 
But  in  the  latter  country,  especially,  the  Revolution  was 
hailed  with  enthusiastic  joy.  The  people  of  Belfast  cele¬ 
brated  the  taking  of  the  Bastille  with  a  grand  military 
parade,  and  voted  an  address  of  congratulation  to  the 
Erench  people.  As  might  be  expected,  these  rejoicings  at 
the  liberation  of  another  people  were  not  unaccompanied 
with  reflections  on  their  own  degraded  condition,  and  the 
address  of  congratulation  to  the  French  was  followed  by  a 
demand  for  Irish  liberty.  These  manifestations  of  popular 
sympathy  were  sometimes  marked  by  significant  tokens  of 
the  way  men’s  thoughts  were  tending.  Thus,  at  a  public 
dinner  at  Belfast  were  displayed  around  the  hall  four  flags, 
America,  France,  Poland,  Ireland, — but  no  England. 

Tone  plunged  boldly  into  the  popular  movement.  His 
first  step  was  to  write  a  political  pamphlet,  in  which  he 
thus  urged  the  people  of  Ireland  to  the  work  of  reform, — • 
“You  have  no  foreign  enemies  to  encounter,  look  then  at 
home.  Now  is  .your  time  for  reformation ;  if  it  elapse 
unprofitably,  which  of  us  can  promise  himself  that  he  will 
survive  till  the  next  era?” 

This  pamphlet  gained  him  some  reputation,  and  the 
whigs  wished  to  attach  him  to  their  interests,  and  proposed 
to  make  him  a  member  of  Parliament.  But  his  views 
were  rapidly  outrunning  those  of  any  party.  Even  thus 
early  he  had  misgivings  as  to  the  possibility  of  accom¬ 
plishing  any  thing  for  his  country,  so  long  as  the  influence 
of  England  remained  so  powerful  in  the  Irish  government. 
“  My  mind  had  now  got  a  turn  for  politics.  I  thought  I 
had  at  last  found  my  element,  and  I  plunged  into  it  with 


DIVISION  OF  PARTIES. 


81 


eagerness.”  He  studied  more  attentively  tlie  political  state 
of  his  country.  “  I  made  speedily  what  was  to  me  a  great 
discovery,  though  I  might  have  found  it  in  Swift  and 
Molyneux,  that  the  influence  of  England  was  the  radical 
vice  of  our  government ;  and,  consequently,  that  Ireland 
would  never  be  either  free,  prosperous,  or  happy,  until  she 
was  independent,  and  that  independence  was  unattainable 
while  the  connection  with  England  existed.  I  now  began 
to  look  on  the  little  politics  of  the  Whig  Club  with  great 
contempt ;  their  peddling  about  petty  grievances,  instead 
of  going  to  the  root  of  the  evil.” 

Tone  did  not  scruple  to  avow  his  new  opinions  in  a 
pamphlet  which  he  published  soon  after  on  the  question, 
“How  far  Ireland  was  bound  to  support  England  in  the 
approaching  contest  with  Spain.”  In  this  he  took  ground 
that  Ireland  was  not  bound  by  a  declaration  of  war ;  that 
she  had  in  it  no  interest  whatever ;  and  that  she  might 
and  ought,  as  an  independent  nation,  to  stipulate  for  a 
neutrality.  In  this  he  spoke  without  reserve  of  the  possi¬ 
bility  of  entire  separation. 

Still,  though  such  were  his  private  views,  he  did  not 
break  with  those  political  associates  who  sought  only  a  re¬ 
form  of  the  government.  He  joined  cordially  in  their  ef¬ 
forts,  resolved  to  leave  no  means  of  peaceable  redress  un¬ 
tied  before  resorting  to  the  experiment,  at  all  times  so 
earful,  of  revolution. 

He  therefore  began  to  look  about  him,  to  see  what 
lhance  there  was  of  a  thorough  reform  in  the  government 
ff  his  country.  He  reviewed  carefully  the  strength  of  the 
Efferent  parties  into  which  Ireland  was  divided. 


82 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


They  were  three:  first,  the  English  or  Established 
Church  Party,  which,  though  but  a  small  fraction  of  the  na¬ 
tion,  held  all  the  power  and  patronage  of  the  government. 
Ever  since  the  revolution  of  1688,  this  party  had  been  in 
quiet  possession  of  the  church,  the  law,  the  revenue,  the 
army,  the  navy,  the  magistracy,  and  the  corporations  of  the 
cities.  They,  too,  held  five  sixths  of  the  landed  property  of 
the  kingdom,  estates  which  they  had  acquired  by  confisca¬ 
tion.  Both  their  political  power  and  their  property  they 
held  only  by  English  rule  being  maintained  in  the  land.  It 
was  only  in  a  close  connection  with  that, they  saw  security, 
for  themselves.  As  the  price  of  protection,  they  in  turn 
were  willing  to  give  up  all  foreign  commerce.  It  was  a 
matter  of  bargain  and  sale.  The  protestant  ascendency 
agreed  to  refrain  from  commercial  rivalship  with  England, 
on  condition  that  they  should  be  upheld  in  their  usurpa¬ 
tion  over  the  poor  natives  of  Ireland.  It  mattered  not  to 
them  that  the  country  at  large  was  impoverished,  so  long 
as  they  were  made  rich.  Both  Ireland  and  India  are  proofs 
that  immense  fortunes  may  be  drained  from  a  country, 
where  the  natives  are  kept  in  the  most  abject  poverty. 
Of  course  this  party,  being  in  power,  desired  no  reform. 

Next  to  the  Established  Church,  were  the  Dissenters. 
This  party  was  twice  as  numerous  as  the  former,  and  com¬ 
prised  far  more  public  spirit.  The  Presbyterians  of  Ulster 
had  composed  the  flower  of  the  volunteers  in  1782.  From 
the  genius  of  their  religion,  and  their  superior  political  in¬ 
formation,  many  of  them  were  sincere  and  enlightened  re¬ 
publicans. 

The  third  party  was  the  Catholics,  which  constituted 


DIVISION  OF  PARTIES. 


83 


two  thirds  of  the  nation.  They,  of  course,  desired  reform, 
but  their  spirits  had  been  broken  by  long  oppression,  and 
they  could  not  at  once  act  with  much  concert  or  effect. 
The  peasantry  had  been  reduced  to  the  level  of  brutes. 
The  few  remaining  gentry  had  no  longer  confidence  to  at¬ 
tempt  any  thing.  “  It  was  only  in  a  class  of  their  mer¬ 
chants  and  traders,  and  a  few  members  of  the  medical  pro¬ 
fession,  who  had  smuggled  an  education,  despite  of  the 
penal  code,  that  any  thing  like  political  sensation  existed.” 

On  this  division  of  parties  Tone  made  his  calculation. 
The  government  party  he  despaired  of  from  the  outset. 
The  Catholics,  on  the  other  hand,  he  counted  upon  with 
certainty.  No  change  could  make  their  situation  worse. 
The  Dissenters  generally  desired  a  reform,  but  they  limited 
their  demand  to  obtaining  rights  for  themselves.  Their 
object  was  a  reform  of  parliament ;  that  of  the  Catholics 
naturally  their  own  emancipation.  The  efforts  of  both  had 
been  paralyzed  by  their  jealousy  of  each  other.  In  this 
mutual  jealousy  lay  the  strength  of  England.  If  united, 
Ireland  could  be  independent,  or  remain  connected  with 
England  as  an  equal.  It  was,  therefore,  the  interest  of 
England  to  foment  division,  to  increase  religious  feuds,  and 
the  hereditary  animosity  of  races. 

Tone  saw  that  the  only  way  to  carry  either  reform  or 
■  Catholic  emancipation,  was  to  unite  these  measures,  and 
to  bring  up  the  nation  in  an  unbroken  column  to  the  doors 
of  parliament.  The  dissensions  of  the  Irish  had  always 
given  their  enemies  the  advantage.  If  the  English  as¬ 
cendency  were  allowed  to  play  off  the  religious  jealousies 
of  one  party  against  the  other,  the  old  game  would  be  fol- 


84 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


lowed  with  the  old  result.  Unless  the  people  were  united, 
there  was  no  deliverance  for  Ireland. 

As  a  Protestant  himself,  Tone  could  speak  without 
reserve  to  the  Protestants  of  Ireland.  He  accordingly  ad¬ 
dressed  himself  directly  to  the  Dissenters,  in  a  pamphlet  in 
favor  of  the  Catholics.  He  showed  them  that  to  he  free, 
they  must  he  just;  that  to  obtain  their  own  rights,  they 
must  concede  to  others  their  rights.  “  The  almighty  Source 
of  wisdom  and  of  goodness  has  inseparably  connected  lib¬ 
erty  and  justice.”  They  must  join  to  put  an  end  to  that 
inhuman  code  which  denied  all  political  existence  to  three 
fourths  of  the  nation.  He  adjured  his  countrymen  to  bury 
their  religious  hatreds,  and  to  unite  for  the  liberation  of 
their  common  country. 

This  was  a  great  advance  on  the  political  principles  of 
the  most  liberal  party.  Grattan  had  indeed  boldly  pleaded 
the  cause  of  his  proscribed  countrymen.*  But  he  stood  al¬ 
most  alone.  His  own  party  would  not  follow  him.  Even 
the  whigs  did  not  dare  to  hazard  their  popularity  by  touch¬ 
ing  the  question  of  Catholic  emancipation.  The  Whig  Club 
excluded  it  from  among  their  subjects  of  discussion.  The 
Established  Church  shrank  from  it  with  sanctimonious 
horror. 

The  only  body  which  had  been  touched  at  all  with  a 
feeling  of  humanity  toward  their  Catholic  fellow-citizens, 
was  the  Irish  volunteers.  As  early  as  1783,  the  people  of 

*  “Grattan  entered  parliament  an  opponent  of  the  Catholic  claims.  He 
told  the  late  Dr.  Hussey,  his  most  intimate  friend,  that  he  owed  his  change 
of  opinion  to  the  accidental  perusal  of  Currie’s  Civil  Wars.”  Lives  of  United 
Irishmen.  First  series,  yol.  i.  p.  78. 


FOUNDS  THE  “UNITED  IRISHMEN.” 


85 


Belfast,  always  in  advance  of  their  countrymen  in  princi¬ 
ples  of  liberty,  bad  petitioned  for  Catholic  emancipation. 
And  when  that  year  the  military  congress  sat  in  Dublin,  a 
distinguished  Catholic  divine,  on  entering  the  hall,  was  re¬ 
ceived  by  the  volunteers  with  a  full  salute  of  rested  arms. 
Still  as  an  earthquake  rived  the  mountains  asunder,  an 
earthquake  was  needed  to  bring  them  together.  It  was 
not  until  the  French  Revolution  shook  the  foundations  of 
every  state  in  Europe,  that  the  Catholics  and  Protestants 
of  Ireland  approached  to  a  solid  and  durable  union. 

The  exertions  of  Tone  to  unite  the  Catholics  and  Dis¬ 
senters,  led  to  the  organization  of  the  United  Irishmen. 
Of  this  memorable  society,  Tone  was  the  founder.  In 
October,  1791,  he  was  invited  up  to  Belfast,  to  consult 
with  other  leaders  of  the  liberal  party.  He  there  pro¬ 
posed  to  them  to  drop  the  invidious  distinction  of  Cath¬ 
olic  and  Protestant,  and  to  take  the  national  denomination 
of  United  Irishmen.  They  formed  a  political  club.  He 
wrote  their  declaration  of  principles.  In  this  he  states 
the  great  grievance  of  Ireland :  “  We  have  no  national  gov¬ 
ernment.  We  are  ruled  by  Englishmen,  and  the  servants 
of  Englishmen,  whose  sole  object  is  the  interest  of  another 
country.”  In  an  essay  the  year  before  he  had  described 
the  state  of  Ireland  up  to  1778.  “  Our  benches  were  filled 

with  English  lawyers ;  our  bishoprics  with  English  divines ; 
our  custom-house  with  English  commissioners ;  all  offices 
of  state  filled  three  deep,  with  Englishmen  in  possession, 
Englishmen  in  reversion,  and  Englishmen  in  expectancy.” 
Each  member,  on  joining  the  society,  took  the  following 
pledge:  “In  the  awful  presence  of  God,  I  declare  that  I 


86 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


■will,  so  far  as  in  me  lies,  endeavor  to  promote  a  brother¬ 
hood  of  affection  and  union  among  Irishmen  of  every  re¬ 
ligious  persuasion,  and  that  I  will  persevere  in  my  endeav¬ 
ors  to  procure  a  full,  equal  and  adequate  representation  of 
all  the  people  of  Ireland  in  parliament.”  Several  years  after¬ 
ward,  when  all  hopes  of  peaceable  redress  had  failed,  and 
the  United  Irishmen  were  forced  to  think  of  revolution,  the 
last  two  words  were  omitted.  But  at  the  beginning  their 
efforts  were  honestly  confined  to  two  objects,  reform  in 
parliament,  and  Catholic  emancipation.  The  people  of 
Belfast,  who  were  most  inclined  to  republicanism,  declared 
that  they  would  consider  a  government  by  king,  lords  and 
commons,  fairly  administered,  as  sufficient  for  their  happi¬ 
ness.  That  the  society  was  not  at  first  revolutionary  in  its 
designs,  is  evident  from  the  fact  that  it  embraced  many 
wealthy  landed  proprietors  and  rich  merchants,  who  had 
nothing  to  gain  by  violent  changes,  but  every  thing  to  lose. 
It  was  only  when  all  hope  of  constitutional  redress  failed, 
that  they  carried  their  designs  farther.  And  even  to  the 
last  moment — to  the  breaking  out  of  the  rebellion  of  1798, 
the  great  body  would  have  been  satisfied  by  these  just  con¬ 
cessions. 

It  is  not  an  uncommon  impression  that  the  United 
Irishmen  were  mainly  Catholics,  and  animated  by  a  hostil¬ 
ity  to  the  Protestants.  So  far  is  this  from  being  the  fact, 
that  the  strength  of  the  society  lay  in  the  northern  Protes¬ 
tant  population.  Even  at  a  later  period,  when  the  design  of 
separation  from  England  was  entertained,  its  warmest  sup¬ 
porters  were  among  the  Presbyterians  of  Ulster.  These 
were  generally  republicans  from  principle.  Descended 


I 


FOUNDS  THE  “UNITED  IRISHMEN.’ 


87 


from  the  old  Puritans  and  Covenanters,  they  retained  much 
of  the  stern  republicanism  of  their  ancestors.  The  religion 
of  the  Catholics,  on  the  other  hand,  led  them  to  extreme 
reverence  for  authority,  and  thus  naturally  to  monarchcial 
principles.  “  Their  proud  and  old  gentry,  and  their  clergy, 
inclined  even  rather  to  feudal  and  chivalrous,  and  to  tory 
principles  than  to  those  of  democracy.”  They  were  made 
republicans  only  by  long  oppression.  As  the  founder  of 
the  United  Irishmen  was  a  Protestant,  so  were  a  majority 
of  the  directory.  Of  twenty  state-prisoners  subsequently 
confined  in  Fort  George  only  four  were  Catholics.  The 
greater  part  belonged  to  the  Established  Church. 

The  organization  of  the  United  Irishmen  was  the  com¬ 
mencement  of  a  new  era  in  Ireland.  It  brought  together 
as  friends,  two  bodies  that  had  regarded  each  other  for  hun¬ 
dreds  of  years  as  natural  enemies.  It  was  itself  a  revolu¬ 
tion  in  the  feelings  and  intercourse  of  the  people. 

At  the  time  of  writing  his  pamphlet  for  the  Catholics, 
Tone  did  not  know  a  single  prominent  man  among  them,  so 
complete  was  the  separation  between  them  and  the  Prot¬ 
estants.  He  wrote  on  the  general  merits  of  the  case,  and 
published  anonymously.  The  Catholics  were  touched  with 
this  disinterested  effort  of  a  stranger,  and  called  on  the 
author  to  make  himself  known.  They  republished  his 
pamphlet,  and  circulated  it  in  all  quarters,  so  that,  when 
introduced  to  their  leaders,  Tone  found  himself  famous 
with  the  whole  body.  The  affairs  of  the  Catholics  of  Ire¬ 
land  at  that  time  were  managed  by  a  general  committee 
which  sat  in  Dublin.  This  committee  had  lately  employed 
as  secretary  Kichard  Burke,  the  only  son  of  the  great  Ed- 


88 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


mund,  hoping  that  his  political  connections,  and  especially 
the  influence  of  his  father,  would  prove  of  effectual  service 
to  their  cause.  They  soon  found  that  Richard  Burke  had 
inherited  nothing  of  greatness  but  a  name.  He  was  as¬ 
suming  and  headstrong,  and  wholly  wanting  in  the  tact  of 
a  political  leader.  The  committee  were  not  sorry  when  his 
return  to  England  left  the  office  vacant.  They  now  turned 
their  eyes  upon  Tone.  His  unsolicited  and  gallant  effort 
in  their  cause,  and  still  more  his  manly  yet  courteous  bear¬ 
ing,  when  they  came  to  know  him,  showed  them  at  once 
that  he  was  their  man.  They  unanimously  offered  him 
the  situation,  with  a  salary  of  two  hundred  pounds.  This 
position  would  give  him  a  certain  degree  of  political  influ¬ 
ence  which  he  needed  to  carry  out  his  plans,  and  he  ac¬ 
cepted  it. 

Richard  Burke  soon  wrote  from  England,  desiring  to 
come  back  and  resume  his  secretaryship,  and  enlarging  on 
the  indispensableness  of  his  political  influence.  But  the 
Avork  was  now  in  stronger  hands. 

The  committee  soon  found  the  difference  between 
Richard  Burke  and  Tone.  “In  reviewing  the  conduct  of 
my  predecessor,  I  saw  that  the  rock  on  which  he  split 
Avas  an  overweening  opinion  of.  his  own  talents  and  judg¬ 
ment,  and  a  desire,  which  he  had  not  art  enough  to  con¬ 
ceal,  of  guiding  at  his  pleasure,  the  measures  of  the  com¬ 
mittee.  I  therefore  determined  to  model  my  conduct  Avith 
the  greatest  caution  in  this  respect ;  I  seldom  or  never  of¬ 
fered  my  opinion  unless  it  was  called  for,  in  the  sub-com¬ 
mittee,  but  contented  myself  with  giving  my  sentiments, 
without  reserve,  in  private,  to  the  tAvo  men  I  most  es- 


EFFORTS  TO  AROUSE  THE  CATHOLICS.  89 


teemed,  and  who  had  in  their  respective  capacities,  the 
greatest  influence  on  that  body.  Another  rule  which  I 
adopted  for  my  conduct  was,  in  all  the  papers  which  I  had 
occasion  to  write,  to  remember  I  was  not  speaking  for  my¬ 
self,  but  for  the  Catholic  body;  and  consequently  to  be 
never  wedded  to  my  own  compositions,  but  to  receive  the 
objections  of  every  one  with  respect ;  and  to  change  with¬ 
out  reluctance  whatever  the  committee  thought  fit  to  alter, 
even  in  cases  where  perhaps  my  own  judgment  was  other¬ 
wise.”  “  Others  did  not  stand  criticisim  as  I  did  without 
wincing.” 

His  discretion  in  these  respects  was  not  unobserved, 
and  he  soon  had  the  happiness  to  find  that  he  had  gained 
the  confidence  of  the  whole  Catholic  body. 

In  truth  no  man  ever  deserved  confidence  more.  Tone 
was  himself  a  Protestant,  but  he  was  convinced  of  the  justice 
of  the  Catholic  claims,  and  he  gave  himself  to  their  caiise 
without  reserve.  He  could  not  be  intimidated.  He  could 
not  be  bribed.  The  committee  consulted  him  on  all  occa¬ 
sions.  He  advised  them,  and  wrote  all  their  publications. 

But  the  position  of  Tone  was  not  that  of  a  mere 
secretary.  He  was  at  the  head  of  a  great  political  agita¬ 
tion.  The  whole  nation  was  to  be  aroused.  Factious 
elements  were  to  be  brought  into  harmony.  The  timid 
were  to  be  encouraged,  and  the  rash  to  be  restrained. 

“  The  Catholics  of  Dublin  were  at  this  period  to  the 
Catholics  of  Ireland  what  Paris,  at  the  commencement  of 
the  French  Revolution,  was  to  the  departments.”  The 
influence  of  a  strong  man  at  the  capital  was  felt  through¬ 
out  the  island. 


90 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


As  founder  of  the  United  Irishmen,  and  Secretary  of 
the  Catholic  Committee,  he  had  a  double  duty  to  perform. 
He  soon  found  how  strong  were  the  religious  jealousies  of 
Protestants  and  Catholics ;  and  his  exertions  were  untiring 
to  harmonize  them,  and  to  bring  them  to  act  together.  He 
traveled  into  different  parts  of  Ireland  to  arouse  the 
people,  and  to  organize  societies  of  United  Irishmen. 
Within  a  few  months  he  made  three  journeys  to  Belfast, 
and  had  the  satisfaction  of  bringing  the  Presbyterians 
generally  into  the  system.  He  then  started  off  for  Con¬ 
naught,  to  make  a  tour  of  the  great  Catholic  counties  of 
Galway  and  Mayo.*  He  aroused  the  spirits  of  the 
Catholics  themselves,  for  so  abject  had  they  become  from 
long  oppression,  that  they  hardly  dared  to  jDetition  for 
justice,  even  in  the  most  supplicating  tone.  He  awoke 
them  from  their  lethargy,  and  infused  into  them  the 
breath  of  life.  The  gentry  were  brought  to  lend  their 
powerful  names.  The  bishops  gave  their  sanction  to  the 
cause.  His  undaunted  courage  kept  up  their  spirits  when 
unfavorable  events  inclined  them  to  despair.  In  one 
instance  an  effort  had  been  made  to  form  a  corps  of 


*  Returning  to  Dublin,  be  writes  to  his  wife :  “  Affairs  are  going  on 
here  swimmingly.  We  have  got  up  a  club  of  United  Irishmen  in  Dublin, 
similar  to  that  in  Belfast,  who  have  adopted  our  resolutions.  We  have 
pretty  well  secured  all  Connaught,  and  are  fighting  out  the  other  two  prov¬ 
inces.  It  is  wonderful  with  what  zeal,  spirit,  activity,  and  secrecy,  all  things 
are  conducted.  My  book  is  running  like  wildfire.  The  castle  has  got  hold 
of  the  story,  but  very  imperfectly.  All  they  know  is  that  the  disorder  broke 
out  in  Belfast,  and  was  carried  there  by  one  Toole,  or  Toomey,  or  some  such 
name,  a  lawyer.  I  suppose  they  will  endeavor  to  find  out  this  Mr.  Toole  or 
Toomey,  or  whatever  his  name  is.” 


CATHOLIC  EMANCIPATION  RESISTED.  91 


volunteers  from  all  the  religious  sects.  But  a  small 
number  of  Protestants  came  forward.  The  Catholics  ex¬ 
pressed  alarm.  Tone  answered  boldly,  “  And  are  not 
you  the  nation  ?  Do  without  them ;  will  you  not  keep  if 
you  are  not  corned  with  Protestants?”  So  far  from  being 
disheartened  by  defeat,  he  advised  the  Catholics  to  keep  a 
bold  front,  and  at  every  refusal  of  the  government  to  do 
them  justice,  like  the  ancient  Sibyl,  to  rise  in  their  de¬ 
mands.  Thus  he  gave  tone  to  the  Catholic  politics 
throughout  the  land,  and  was  able  to  write  in  his  journal, 
after  his  return  from  a  political  tour,  “  The  country 
Catholics,  I  think,  will  stand  fire.” 

At  other  moments  the  party  was  too  precipitate.  When 
their  hopes  were  suddenly  excited  by  the  dazzling  suc¬ 
cesses  of  the  French  Revolution,  which  seemed  likely  to 
compel  England  to  do  them  justice,  their  ardor  burst  out 
into  extravagant  and  tumultuous  joy.  Then  his  cool 
judgment  restrained  them  from  rash  measures.  And  at  all 
times  his  liberal  feelings,  his  perfect  temper,  and  his  entire 
devotion  to  their  cause,  gave  him  great  command  over  the 
Catholics,  and  enabled  him  to  quell  rising  discords  between 
them  and  their  Protestant  brethren. 

But  the  great  movement  was  not  allowed  to  go  forward 
unopposed.  No  sooner  was  it  seen  that  the  Dissenters  and 
the  Catholics  were  cordially  uniting  to  obtain  reform  and 
emancipation,  than  all  the  bigotry  of  the  Protestant  ascen¬ 
dency  was  aroused.  Protestant  bodies  throughout  the 
island  adopted  the  strongest  resolutions  against  the  pro¬ 
posed  reforms.  Of  the  bitter  intolerance  of  that  day,  the 
following  language  is  a  specimen.  At  a  meeting  of  the 


92 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


Mayor,  Sheriffs,  Commons,  and  citizens  of  Dublin,  a  long 
letter  was  addressed  to  the  Protestants  of  Ireland,  urging 
them  to  resist  to  the  last  the  emancipation  of  the  Catholics. 
It  was  adopted  unanimously.  The  following  is  the 
closing  paragraph : — 

“  Having  thus,  countrymen  and  friends,  spoken  to  you 
our  sentiments  in  the  undisguised  language  of  truth,  we 
shall  entreat  you  to  join  with  us  in  using  every  honest 
means  of  persuading  the  Roman  Catholics  to  rest  content 
with,  the  most  perfect  toleration  of  their  religion, — the 
fullest  security  of  their  property, — and  the  most  complete 
personal  liberty;  but  by  no  means,  now  or  hereafter,  to 
attempt  any  interference  in  the  government  of  the  king¬ 
dom  ;  as  such  interference  would  be  incompatible  with  the 
Protestant  ascendency,  which  we  have  resolved  with  our 
lives  and  fortunes  to  maintain.  And  that  no  doubt  may 
remain  of  what  we  understand  by  the  words  1  Protestant 
Ascendency,  ’  we  have  further  resolved,  that  we  consider  the 
Protestant  ascendency  to  consist  in — a  Protestant  King  of 
Ireland, — a  Protestant  Parliament, — a  Protestant  hierarchy, 
— Protestant  Electors  and  Government, — the  benches  of 
Justice, — the  Army  and  the  Revenue, — through  all  their 
branches  and  details,  Protestant, — and  this  system  supported 
by  a  connection  with  the  Protestant  Realm  of  Britain.”* 

Against  this  monstrous  injustice  Grattan  raised  his 
powerful  voice.  “  What !”  he  exclaimed,  “  the  Catholics 
never  be  free!”  He  declared  that  such  mighty  wrong 
could  not  stand.  He  anticipated  a  change  of  times, — a 
new  order  of  things.  “You  may  as  well  plant  your  foot 
*  Sir  Richard  Musgrave’s  History,  vol.  ii.  p.  223. 


THE  CATHOLIC  CONVENTION. 


93 


upon  the  earth,  and  hope  by  that  resistance  to  stop  the 
diurnal  revolution,  which  advances  you  to  that  morning 
sun  which  is  to  shine  alike  on  the  Protestant  and  the 
Catholic,  as  you  can  hope  to  arrest  the  progress  of  that 
other  light,  reason  and  justice,  which  comes  to  liberate  the 
Catholic,  and  to  liberalize  the  Protestant.” 

Tone  was  not  dismayed  at  the  opposition  which  the 
efforts  of  the  Catholics  and  United  Irishmen  had  provoked. 
“  All  parties,”  he  says,  “  were  now  fully  employed  in  pre¬ 
paring  for  the  ensuing  session  of  Parliament.  The  gov¬ 
ernment,  through  the  organ  of  the  corporations  and  grand 
juries,  opened  a  heavy  fire  upon  us  of  manifestoes  and 
resolutions.  At  first  we  were  like  young  soldiers,  a  little 
stunned  with  the  noise,  but  after  a  few  rounds,  we  began 
to  look  about  us,  and  seeing  nobody  drop  with  all  this 
furious  cannonade,  we  took  courage,  and  determined  to 
return  the  fire.” 

Their  exertions  were  most  successful.  The  spirit  of 
the  Catholics  was  aroused.  Political  information  was 
widely  diffused.  Union  gave  them  confidence,  while  the 
triumphs  of  liberty  in  France  strengthened  their  zeal  and 
their  courage.  The  result  of  these  exertions  was  seen  at 
the  close  of  this  year.  In  December,  1792,  a  Convention 
of  Delegates  from  the  Catholics  of  Ireland  assembled  in 
Dublin.  It  was  composed  of  delegates  from  all  the 
counties,  cities,  and  principal  towns  of  the  kingdom. 
This  was  an  imposing  body,  representing  as  it  did  three 
millions  of  men.  It  assembled  in  the  same  room  in  Back 
Lane,  in  which  the  Parliament  of  King  James  sat  at  the 
time  of  the  Ee volution.  Its  object  was  to  draw  up  a 


94 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


statement  of  tlie  grievances  of  tire  Catholics,  and  without 
petitioning  further  to  the  Irish  parliament,  to  appeal  \ 
directly  to  the  King.  This  was  a  violation  of  ordinary  j 
rules.  The  usual  course  had  been  to  place  a  petition  in 
the  hands  of  the  Lord  Lieutenant,  who  transmitted  it  to  ■: 
His  Majesty.  But  this  was  no  time  for  civilities.  They  j 
had  lost  all  confidence  in  the  Irish  administration,  and  : 
would  ask  no  favors  from  them.  They  would  not  bend  ! 
the  knee  of  supplication  to  any  power  less  than  the 
Monarch  of  those  realms.  They  found — what  is  generally 
true — that  the  higher  the  authority  to  which  they  ap¬ 
pealed,  the  more  likely  was  their  petition  to  be  treated 
with  respect.  Subordinate  officials,  wielding  a  limited  and 
short-lived  authority, ,  are  generally  ambitious  to  show  their 
power.  Wherefore  they  appealed  to  Caesar.  Tone  was 
the  only  Protestant  admitted  to  the  Convention.  He 
wrote  their  memorable  petition  to  George  III.  The  mem¬ 
bers  of  the  Convention  signed  it.  The  Archbishop  of 
Dublin  and  the  Bishop  of  Cork  added  their  names  as 
representing  the  Catholic  Clergy  of  Ireland.  Tone  ac¬ 
companied  the  delegation  which  carried  it  to  England. 

On  their  way  they  passed  through  Belfast.  So 
thoroughly  had  the  principles  of  the  United  Irishmen 
pervaded  that  noble  city,  that  at  their  departure,  the 
people  assembled  in  crowds,  and  took  their  horses  from 
their  carriage,  and  drew  them  through  the  town,  amid 
enthusiastic  cheers,  and  cries  of  “  Success  attend  you,” 
“Union,”  “Equal  Laws,”  and  “Down  with  the  Ascen¬ 
dency.”  *  The  delegates  pursued  their  way  to  London. 

*  Moore’s  Life  of  Fitzgerald,  vol.  i.  p.  165. 


THE  CATHOLIC  CONVENTION. 


95 


Earl  Moira  at  once  waited  on  tliem  to  offer  tliem  the  hos¬ 
pitality  of  his  mansion,  and  the  command  of  his  house¬ 
hold.  He  repeatedly  entertained  them  in  a  style  of 
princely  magnificence.  They  entered  the  Palace  of  St. 
James,  and  were  presented  by  Right  Hon.  Henry  Dundas 
to  George  III.  Thus  they  had  fought  their  way  to  the 
foot  of  the  throne.  His  Majesty  received  them  very 
politely,  conversing  familiarly  with  each  of  the  delegates, 
and  respectfully  considered  their  petition.  The  result  was 
a  repeal  of  the  most  oppressive  penal  laws,  and  the  admis¬ 
sion  of  Catholics  to  the  elective  franchize. 

A  wonderful  change  had  indeed  come  over  the  spirit 
of  the  Protestant  ascendency.  But  a  few  years  before  the 
Catholics  were  in  the  lowest  political  degradation.  As 
late  as  1759  the  Irish  Chancellor  had  declared  from  the 
bench,  that  “  the  laws  did  not  presume  a  papist  to  exist  in 
the  kingdom,  nor  could  they  breathe  without  the  con¬ 
nivance  of  government.”  Though  the  Catholics  had  uni¬ 
formly  presented  an  abject  address  on  the  accession  of 
every  new  Lord  Lieutenant,  they  had  been  scarcely 
thought  worth  noticing.  In  fact  the  Duke  of  Portland  in 
1782  was  the  first  who  condescended  to  give  them  an 
answer.  And  when  they  had  ventured  so  far  as  to  sup¬ 
plicate  a  little  redress,  in  1790,  they  could  not  find  a  single 
member  of  the  Legislature  to  present  their  petition.  Even 
later, — in  1792  their  petition  was  spurned  with  contempt 
by  that  very  Parliament,  which  one  year  after  hastened  to 
grant  it  with  a  precipitation  which  showed  that  it  was 
yielded  to  fear  rather  than  justice. 


CHAPTER  VIII. 


The  Irish  Volunteers  Disbanded. — Earl  Fitzwit.liam  Lord  Lieutenant. — 
The  United  Irishmen  changed  to  a  Secret  Society. — Trial  and  Death 
of  Rev.  William  Jackson. — Hamilton  Rowan  makes  his  Escape. — Tone 
flees  to  America. — Meets  old  Comrades. — Sails  for  France. 

Meanwhile  tlie  organization  of  the  Irish  Volunteers 
had  gradually  declined.  They  had  made  a  fatal  mistake 
at  the  outset,  in  excluding  the  Catholics  from  their  ranks 
and  from  the  objects  of  their  petitions.  There  was  a  pal¬ 
pable  inconsistency  in  demanding  equal  representation  for 
themselves,  and  denying  it  to  three  fourths  of  the  nation. 
The  government  had  viewed  with  jealousy  the  existence 
of  such  a  body  of  armed  men.  They  felt  the  suspicion  of 
the  Volunteers  which  the  present  governments  of  Europe 
feel  of  their  National  Guards ;  and  seized  every  means  to 
weaken  their  imposing  array.  Corruption  did  its  work 
upon  some  of  the  leaders.  The  Volunteers  began  to 
hesitate  and  waver  in  their  policy.  Their  numbers  and 
their  enthusiasm  diminished,  until  in  1793,  the  govern¬ 
ment,  seeing  the  moment  opportune,  issued  an  order  that 
any  assemblage  of  the  Volunteers  should  be  dispersed 
by  an  armed  force.  This  gave  the  death-blow  to  that 
body,  which  had  achieved  so  much  for  their  country,  and 
which  might  have  gained  every  thing,  if  they  had  been. 


EARL  FITZWILLIAM  LORD  LIEUTENANT.  97 


liberal  enough  to  concede  justice  to  the  Catholics,  and  had 
been  at  the  same  time  united  and  firm.  As  it  was,  with 
its  limited  views,  it  had  done  its  work.  It  was  time  that 
it  should  give  place  to  a  more  sweeping  movement  for 
Bef'orm.  Some  of  the  disbanded  regiments  fell  back  into 
the  ranks  of  the  government  party,  but  those  who  retained 
the  resolute  spirit  of  the  old  volunteers  gradually  merged 
in  the  United  Irishmen. 

In  January  1795  a  gleam  of  sunshine  broke  upon 
Ireland  in  the  appointment  of  Earl  Fitzwilliam  as  Lord 
Lieutenant.  This  liberal  nobleman  was  extremely  popular 
in  Ireland.  He  called  to  his  councils  Grattan  and  others 
in  whom  the  nation  had  confidence.  He  brought  forward 
a  bill  for  the  complete  emancipation  of  the  Catholics.  The 
effect  was  electrical.  The  rising  anger  of  the  nation  in¬ 
stantly  lulled.  Irritated  feelings  were  allayed.  The  agi¬ 
tation  of  the  public  mind  calmed  down.  Had  he  con¬ 
tinued  in  office,  no  organized  opposition  could  have  be¬ 
come  formidable.  But  his  very  humanity  incurred  the 
hatred  of  the  more  violent  Orange  faction,  and  through 
them  subjected  him  to  the  suspicion  of  the  heads  of 
power  at  home.  He  had  only  been  in  office  a  few  weeks 
when  he  was  recalled,  and  in  his  place  came  over  Lord 
Camden,  whose  “  vigorous”  government  soon  raised  the 
whole  country  in  opposition.  He  was  himself  rather  a 
weak  than  a  bad  man.  But  however  good  his  intentions, 
he  produced  all  the  evil  of  the  most  odious  tyrant,  in  suf¬ 
fering  himself  to  be  ruled  by  one  of  the  worst  factions  that 
ever  ruined  a  country.  The  measures  of  reform  which 
had  been  proposed  were  dropped.  There  was  an  end  to 

E 


93 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


hopes  of  peaceful  redress,  and  nothing  remained  for  the 
nation  but  heroic  resistance. 

The  recall  of  Earl  Fitzwilliam  was  a  virtual  declaration 
of  Avar  on  the  part  of  government  against  all  measures  of 
concession.  It  forced  the  United  Irishmen  to  change  their 
policy.  The  year  before  the  old  society  had  been  dis¬ 
solved.  Its  members  felt  that  they  had  erred  in  alloAving 
its  discussions  to  be  public.  They  now  (in  ’95)  formed  a 
neAV  society,  embracing  more  extensive  designs  than  the 
former,  and  guarding  its  councils  by  an  oath  of  inviolable 
secrecy.  AVe  have  seen  in  our  OAvn  times  secret  societies 
playing  a  most  important  part  in  political  revolutions. 
The  Greek  clubs  in  the  war  Avith  Turkey  were  so  many 
centers  of  conspiracy.  The  Italian  Carbonari  have  been 
for  years  a  smoking  volcano,  threatening  at  any  moment  to 
burst  out  anew.  But  in  all  the  history  of  conspiracies  per¬ 
haps  never  was  an  organization  so  perfect,  so  secret,  so  ex¬ 
tensive,  so  formidable,  as  that  of  the  United  Irishmen. 
Their  designs  were  now  bolder  than  before.  Hitherto  they 
had  sought  only  peaceful  reforms.  There  was  still  room 
for  a  compromise  Avith  the  leaders  if  the  government 
would  make  certain  concessions.  But  there  was  no  pros¬ 
pect  of  one.  The  obstinacy  with  which  the  plainest  de¬ 
mands  of  justice  had  been  resisted  by  the  oligarchy  which 
then  ruled  Ireland,  had  forced  the  people  to  meditate 
taking  the  poAver  into  their  OAvn  hands. 

As  early  as  1792  the  French  Convention  had  sent  to 
the  popular  leaders  in  Ireland,  an  offer  to  deposit  in  any 
bank  in  Europe  the  pay  for  forty  thousand  men  for  six 
months,  on  condition  that  the  Volunteers  would  declare 


REV.  WILLIAM  JACKSON. 


99 


independence  of  England.  But  at  that  day  few  were  pre¬ 
pared  to  take  up  arms.  The  offer  was  declined.  It  needed 
several  years  more  of  harsh  and  cruel  government  to  force 
them  to  contemplate  open  resistance.  But  injustice  and 
military  violence  at  last  opened  their  eyes.  They  felt  that 
it  would  he  easier  to  effect  a  revolution  than  a  reform. 
The  society  now  became  an  organized  conspiracy  for  the 
overthrow  of  the  English  power  in  Ireland.  Its  members 
began  to  breathe  the  fierce  passions  of  war.  In  every  part 
of  the  kingdom  they  had  their  clubs  and  their  badges. 
Green  was  the  national  color.  “  A  green  velvet  stock,  or 
a  silk  robe,  with  a  shamrock  device,  were  the  symbols  of 
Irish  feeling.” 

About  this  time  an  unexpected  event  compelled  Tone 
to  fly  from  Ireland.  In  the  spring  of  1794  Rev.  William 
Jackson,  an  Irish  clergyman,  was  sent  over  from  France 
to  sound  his  countrymen  as  to  their  willingness  to  receive 
the  French  in  case  of  an  invasion.  The  rashness  of  this 
man  cost  him  his  life,  and  had  nearly  involved  that  of 
Tone.  On  arriving  in  London  he  communicated  the  ob¬ 
ject  of  his  mission  to  an  old  acquaintance  of  the  name 
of  Cockayne,  an  English  attorney,  who  hastened  to  the 
government  to  sell  his  information  and  the  life  of  his 
friend.  Pitt  advised  him  to  follow  Jackson  to  Ireland, 
and  to  watch  him.  On  arriving  in  that  country,  Jackson 
soon  opened  himself  to  Tone,  who  by  this  time  was  fully 
prepared  for  a  revolution.  He  said  to  be  sure  it  would  be 
a  most  severe  remedy  for  their  abuses,  but  that  he  saw  no 
other ;  for  that  liberty  was  so  shackled  in  Ireland,  that 
the  people  had  no  way  left  to  expose  their  sentiments  but 


100 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


by  open  resistance.  He  however  avoided  committing  him¬ 
self  to  any  projected  invasion,  for  he  was  disgusted  at  the 
unlimited  confidence  which  Jackson  reposed  in  Cockayne. 
“This  business,”  he  said,  “is  one  thing  for  us  Irishmen : 
but  an  Englishman  who  engages  in  it,  must  be  a  traitor 
one  way  or  another.”  He  made  it  a  point  never  to  open 
himself  in  his  presence,  and  soon  withdrew  altogether  from 
a  business  in  which  he  saw  such  ruinous  indiscretion.  To 
this  timely  prudence  he  owed  his  life.  So  rash  was  Jack- 
son  that  Tone  began  to  suspect  that  he  was  himself  an 
emissary  of  the  British  government.  This  suspicion  how¬ 
ever  was  entirely  removed  by  his  heroic  death. 

As  soon  as  the  plot  was  ripe  Cockayne  turned  informer, 
and  Jackson  was  arrested  for  high  treason.  Once  in  prison 
every  trace  of  weakness  disappeared,  and  he  stood  up  with 
manly  firmness  to  meet  his  inevitable  doom.  It  is  pleas¬ 
ant,  in  a  history  so  sad  as  that  of  Ireland  at  this  period,  to 
meet  with  actions  which  do  honor  to  human  nature.  A 
striking  instance  of  nobleness  occurred  during  Jackson’s 
imprisonment.  Just  before  his  trial  a  friend  called  to  see 
him,  and  remained  until  a  late  hour  of  the  night.  As  he 
rose  to  depart,  Mr.  Jackson  accompanied  him  to  the  door 
where  the  jailer  generally  waited.  To  their  surprise  they 
found  that  he  had  sunk  down  into  a  deep  sleep,  with  the 
keys  of  the  prison  lying  beside  him.  Mr.  Jackson  bent 
down  to  pick  up  the  keys,  but  without  snatching  at  the 
prospect  of  escape,  he  merely  said,  “Poor  fellow!  let  us 
not  disturb  him ;  I  have  already  been  too  troublesome  to 
him  in  this  way.”  He  accordingly  accompanied  his  friend 
through  to  the  outer  door  of  the  prison.  As  he  turned 


JACKSON’S  TRIAL  AND  DEATH. 


101 


the  lock,  and  the  free  night  air  blew  upon  him,  he  felt  the 
temptation  to  escape.  The  door  was  open.  The  street  was 
clear.  The  night  would  protect  him.  He  had  a  friend  to 
aid  his  flight.  For  a  moment  he  was  deeply  agitated. 
Then  recovering  his  firmness,  he  said,  “  I  could  do  it ,  but 
what  would  be  the  consequences  to  you,  and  to  the  poor 
fellow  within,  who  has  been  so  kind  to  me  ?  Ho  !  let  me 
rather  meet  my  fate.”  With  these  words,  he  turned  from 
his  friend  and  liberty,  locked  the  door  of  the  prison,  and 
returned  to  his  cell.”* 

It  was  a  whole  year  from  the  time  of  Jackson’s  arrest 
before  he  was  brought  to  trial.  Curran,  the  brave,  the 
noble-hearted  Curran,  who  never  shrunk  from  the  side  of 
the  powerless,  undertook  his  defense.  The  testimony  of 
Cockayne  was  positive.  But  it  was  contrary  to  the  law  of 
England  to  convict  of  high  treason  on  the  testimony  of  a 
single  witness.  It  was  found,  however,  that  the  ancient 
law  of  Ireland  differed  on  this  point.  By  that  one  witness 
was  sufficient.  The  judges  were  too  glad  to  have  difficul¬ 
ties  removed  in  the  way  of  ready  conviction.  Jackson  was 
condemned.  On  the  day  that  he  was  brought  to  the  court 
to  receive  his  sentence,  he  was  observed  to  hang  his  head 
out  of  the  window  of  the  carriage  with  the  appearance  of 
one  deadly  sick.  When  placed  in  the  dock,  he  could 
hardly  stand.  He  had  swallowed  metallic  poison.  “He 
beckoned  to  his  counsel  to  approach  him,  and  making  an 
effort  to  grasp  him  with  his  damp  and  nerveless  hand, 
uttered,  in  a  whisper,  and  with  a  smile  of  mournful  tri- 


*  Curran’s  Life,  p.  161. 


102 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


umph,  the  dying  words  of  Pierre :  “We  have  deceived  the 
senate.”* 

It  was  soon  apparent  that  he  was  dying.  He  still 
struggled  to  stand  erect,  and  crossing  his  arms  upon  his 
breast,  to  face  the  court.  He  strove  to  open  his  heavy  eye 
to  look  round  on  the  crowded  room.  But  his  frame  was 
already  in  convulsions,  and  before  the  judge  was  ready  to 
pronounce  the  sentence,  he  sank  and  breathed  his  last.  A 
slip  of  paper  was  found  in  his  pocket,  with  the  following 
sentences  in  his  handwriting: — “Turn  thee  unto  me,  and 
have  mercy  upon  me,  for  I  am  desolate  and  afflicted.  The 
troubles  of  my  heart  are  enlarged :  oh  bring  thou  me  out 
of  my  distresses.  Look  upon  my  affliction  and  my  pain,  and 
forgive  all  my  sins.  Oh,  keep  my  soul  and  deliver  me. 
Let  me  not  be  ashamed,  for  I  put  my  trust  in  thee.” 

The  trial  of  Jackson  produced  a  powerful  sensation 
throughout  Ireland.  It  was  the  first  trial  for  high  treason 
which  had  taken  place  in  that  court  for  more  than  a  cen¬ 
tury.  It  was  the  beginning  of  that  long  series  of  state 
trials  which  were  soon  to  mark  a  reign  of  terror.  But 
instead  of  dismaying  the  United  Irishmen,  it  had  rather  a 
contrary  effect.  It  showed  the  people  of  Ireland  that 
the  eyes  of  the  French  Directory  were  upon  them,  and  that 
the  power  which  was  effecting  revolutions  in  so  many 
countries  of  Europe,  might  suddenly  visit  them. 

But  it  made  it  necessary  for  those  who  were  implicated 
in  the  affair  to  leave  the  kingdom.  Dr.  Reynolds  imme¬ 
diately  fled.  Hamilton  Rowan  was  already  in  Newgate  on 
a  charge  of  libel,  for  publishing  an  address  which  reflected 
*  Otway’s  Venice  Preserved. 


ESCAPE  OF  HAMILTON  ROWAN. 


103 


on  the  government.  Cockayne  had  been  introduced  to 
him  in  prison,  and  he  had  compromised  himself  to  a  degree 
which  in  those  dangerous  times  could  easily  be  construed 
into  treason.  Not  a  moment  was  to  be  lost  in  making  his 
escape.  He  prevailed  upon  his  keepers  to  take  him  one 
evening  from  prison  to  his  home,  in  order  to  make  out  a 
deed,  as  fear  had  been  expressed  that  a  deed  signed  in 
prison  would  be  invalid.  Here  he  did  not  forget  the  duties 
of  hospitality.  The  best  liquors  were  spread  upon  the 
table,  and  his  guests,  though  not  perhaps  the  men  he  would 
have  invited,  were  made  Avelcome,  and  the  social  glass 
went  round.  When  good  feeling  was  thus  established, 
Rowan  carelessly  wished  to  step  into  the  next  room  a  mo¬ 
ment,  to  speak  to  Mrs.  Rowan.  Once  in  his  wife’s  apart¬ 
ment,  he  changed  his  dress  for  that  of  a  herdsman.  A 
knotted  rope  was  made  fast  to  the  bedpost,  and  passed  out 
of  the  window,  and  on  this  he  slipped  down  to  the  garden. 
He  went  straight  to  the  stable,  and  mounted  his  horse.  A 
friend  had  appointed  to  meet  him,  and  leaving  his  keepers, 
to  make  merry  over  their  wine,  the  confederates  spurred 
to  the  country.  They  had  a  friend  who  lived  by  the  sea¬ 
shore.  They  made  their  way  to  his  cottage.  Here  Rowan 
lay  secreted  several  days.  But  scarcely  had  the  day  broke, 
when  parties  of  soldiers  were  abroad,  searching  every  sus¬ 
pected  place  of  concealment.  Dublin  rang  with  accounts 
of  the  escape  of  an  important  state-prisoner.  Proclama¬ 
tions  were  issued,  describing  his  person,  and  offering  a  re¬ 
ward  of  three  thousand  pounds  for  his  apprehension.  His 
friend  had  a  little  fishing  wherry  which  lay  by  the  shore. 
Rowan  declared  that  he  was  willing  to  risk  his  safety  in  it. 


104 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


His  friend  then  sought  three  sailors  to  convey  an  unknown 
person  to  France.  One  of  them  came,  bringing  the  proc¬ 
lamation  in  his  pocket.  He  drew  it  out  and  opened  to 
the  description.  Eowan’s  person  could  not  be  mistaken. 
The  sailor  exclaimed,  “It  is  Hamilton  Eowan  that  we  are 
to  take  to  France.”  “Yes,”  said  Eowan’s  friend,  “ and 
here  he  is,”  and  he  introduced  him.  The  temptation  to 
betray  their  prisoner  was  great.  But  the  noble-hearted 
sailors  spurned  the  thought.  “  Never  mind  it,”  said  they, 
“  we  will  land  him  safe.”  The  next  day  they  sailed,  and 
landed  their  passenger  in  safety  on  the  shores  of  France. 
What  money  he  had  left,  Eowan  divided  equally  among 
his  little  crew,  and  ordered  them  to  make  for  England.* 

A  more  noble  instance  of  fidelity  can  hardly  be  found  in 
history.  Divided  among  three  poor  sailors  three  thousand 
pounds  would  be  a  fortune.  Eowan  could  make  them  but 
a  trifling  compensation.  He  had  no  claim  upon  them  of 
former  friendship.  They  had  never  seen  him  before.  He 
owed  his  safety  entirely  to  that  impulse  of  generosity,  and 
to  that  quick  sense  of  honor,  which  are  native  to  the  Irish 
breast. 

Tone  had  hardly  gone  far  enough  to  be  convicted  of 
treason,  and  he  remained  in  Ireland  during  all  the  time  be¬ 
tween  Jackson’s  arrest  and  his  death.  Still  he  was  not 
safe.  Hitherto  he  had  been  sheltered  from  prosecution  by 
the  personal  friendship  of  persons  connected  with  the  gov¬ 
ernment.  But  he  was  liable  at  any  day  to  be  arrested. 

*  The  account  of  this  escape  in  the  Memoir  of  Thomas  Addis  Emmet, 
differs  from  this  in  one  or  two  slight  particulars.  I  have  followed  Rowan’s 
autobiography,  p.  201. 


TONE  FLEES  TO  AMERICA. 


105 


He  therefore  regarded  it  as  an  act  of  prudence  to  retire 
from  the  country,  and  prepared  to  go  to  America. 

Before  leaving  Ireland,  Tone  consulted  with  his  two 
best  friends,  Emmet  and  Russel,  about  his  future  course. 
“A  short  time  before  my  departure,  my  friend  Russel 
being  in  town,  he  and  I  walked  out  together  to  Rathfarn- 
ham,  to  see  Emmet,  who  has  a  charming  villa  there.  He 
showed  us  a  little  study,  of  an  elliptical  form,  which  he 
was  building  at  the  bottom  of  the  lawn,  and  which  he  said 
he  would  consecrate  to  our  meetings,  if  ever  we  lived  to 
see  our  country  emancipated.  As  we  walked  together 
into  town,  I  opened  my  plan  to  them  both.  I  told  them 
that  my  intention  was,  immediately  on  my  arrival  in  Phil¬ 
adelphia,  to  wait  on  the  French  minister,  to  detail  to  him 
fully  the  situation  of  affairs  in  Ireland,  to  endeavor  to  ob¬ 
tain  a  recommendation  to  the  French  government ;  and,  if 
I  succeeded  so  far,  to  leave  my  family  in  America,  and  to 
set  off  instantly  for  Paris,  and  apply  in  the  name  of  my 
country,  for  the  assistance  of  France,  to  enable  us  to  assert 
our  independence.  It  is  unnecessary  to  say  that  this  plan 
met  with  the  warmest  approbation  from  both  Russel  and 
Emmet ;  we  shook  hands,  and  having  repeated  our  profes¬ 
sions  of  unalterable  regard  and  esteem  for  each  other,  we 
parted ;  and  this  was  the  last  interview  which  I  was  so 
happy  as  to  have  with  those  two  invaluable  friends  to¬ 
gether.  I  remember  it  was  in  a  little  triangular  field  that 
this  conversation  took  place ;  and  Emmet  remarked  to  us, 
that  it  was  in  one  exactly  like  it  in  Switzerland  that  Will¬ 
iam  Tell  and  his  associates  planned  the  downfall  of  the 
tyranny  of  Austria.” 


106 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


The  ship  which  was  to  convey  him  to  America  was  to 
sail  from  Belfast.  He  accordingly  set  off  for  that  city  in 
May,  with  his  wife,  sister,  and  three  children.  In  Belfast 
he  was  detained  near  a  month,  and  during  this  time  noth¬ 
ing  could  exceed  the  kindness  of  the  people.  Every  day 
they  dined  with  friends.  Excursions  into  the  country,  and 
sailing  parties,  were  planned  for  their  amusement.  The 
whole  town  seemed  to  unite  to  make  them  forget  the  pain 
of  their  approaching  exile.  This  visit  was  useful  to  Tone 
in  another  way.  It  enabled  him  to  consult  with  the 
northern  leaders  as  to  his  course.  He  met  the  leading 
men  of  the  dissenters  and  of  the  defenders.  All  entered 
warmly  into  his  plan,  and  enjoined  him  to  leave  nothing 
unattempted  to  force  his  way  to  France,  and  to  lay  their 
situation  before  the  government.  He  says,  “I  now  looked 
upon  myself  as  competent  to  speak  fully  and  with  confi¬ 
dence  for  the  Catholics,  for  the  Dissenters,  and  for  the  De¬ 
fenders  of  Ireland.” 

The  day  of  parting  came.  It  was  the  15th  of  June, 
1795,  that  Tone  left  Ireland,  which  he  was  to  see  no  more 
until  he  returned  with  an  invading  army.  His  friends 
loaded  his  family  with  presents.  They  filled  his  cabin 
with  sea-stores,  fresh  provisions,  and  sweetmeats  for  their 
comfort  on  the  voyage — acts  of  kindness  which  could  not 
but  strengthen  Iris  affection  for  the  Irish  people,  and  his 
determination  to  leave  no  means  untried  to  effect  their  in¬ 
dependence. 

The  voyage  was  pleasant,  except  that  off  the  banks  of 
Newfoundland  they  were  boarded  by  the  boats  of  three 
English  frigates,  who  impressed  every  hand  of  the  ship  but 


TONE  IN  AMERICA. 


107 


one,  and  nearly  fifty  poor  emigrants  who  were  seeking  a 
home  in  America.  This  incident  did  not  conciliate  Tone’s 
feelings  toward  the  English  government. 

On  the  first  of  August  he  landed  at  Wilmington  in 
Delaware.  The  next  week  he  went  to  Philadelphia,  then 
the  seat  of  government.  “  Immediately  on  my  arrival,” 
he  writes,  “  I  found  out  my  old  friend  and  brother  exile, 
Dr.  Reynolds.  From  him  I  learned  that  Hamilton  Rowan 
had  arrived  about  six  weeks  before  from  France,  and  that 
same  evening  we  all  three  met.  It  was  a  singular  ren¬ 
contre,  and  our  several  escapes  from  an  ignominious  death 
seemed  little  short  of  a  miracle.  We  communicated  our 
adventures  since  our  last  interview,  which  took  place  in 
the  gaol  of  Newgate  in  Dublin,  fourteen  months  before.”* 

In  Philadelphia  Tone  became  acquainted  with  Talley- 


*  Rowan,  on  landing  in  France,  had  been  arrested  as  a  spy.  The  suspicion 
was  natural.  So  many  were  the  ruses  resorted  to  by  the  emissaries  of 
England  to  smuggle  themselves  into  France,  that  a  stranger  landing  alone 
from  a  fishing  wherry,  seemed  much  more  likely  to  have  crossed  the  channel 
from  England,  than  to  have  come  in  that  slender  bark  all  the  way  from 
Ireland.  Rowan  was  seized  and  brought  before  the  commandant  of  a  fort 
on  the  coast.  He  related  his  story.  The  commandant  heard  him  through, 
and  then  coolly  replied  that  as  it  appeared  by  his  account  that  he  had 
escaped  from  prison  in  his  own  country,  he  would  take  care  that  he  should 
not  escape  him,  and  ordered  him  into  confinement.  He  was  soon  sent  on  to 
Paris,  and  brought  before  Robespierre.  Nothing  appeared  against  him,  and 
he  was  set  at  liberty.  A  few  weeks  after  Robespierre  fell.  In  two  days 
more  Rowan  stood  in  the  Place  de  la  Revolution,  and  saw  the  whole  com¬ 
mune  of  Paris,  about  sixty  persons,  guillotined  in  less  than  an  hour  and  a 
half.  He  stood  above  a  hundred  paces  from  the  scaffold,  bnt  the  blood  of 
the  victims  streamed  under  his  feet.  Escaping  from  these  bloody  scenes,  he 
sought  peace  and  quietness  in  another  hemisphere. 


108 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


rand,  who  was  also  then  in  exile,  with  whom  he  was  after¬ 
ward  to  be  engaged  in  such  important  affairs  in  France, 
and  who  ultimately  proved  a  friend  and  protector  to  his 
family.  He  immediately  presented  himself  to  the  French 
minister  with  a  statement  of  his  plans.  The  minister  re¬ 
ceived  him  politely,  but  showed  little  enthusiasm  in  his 
Irish  scheme.  From  this  Tone  thought  that  he  might  be 
compelled  to  remain  in  America,  and  he  had  actually  se¬ 
lected  a  house  and  farm  near  Princeton,  when  he  received 
letters  from  Ireland  which  again  awoke  his  patriotic  ardor. 
They  informed  him  of  the  increasing  political  excitement 
in  Ireland,  and  that  a  collision  could  not  long  be  deferred. 
Many  expressions  were  couched  in  enigmatical  language 
for  fear  of  their  falling  into  the  hands  of  the  English, 
One  of  the  Catholic  leaders  of  Dublin  asks,  “Do  you  in¬ 
tend,  like  Cincinnatus,  and-  your  greater  Washington,  to 
follow  the  plow,  and  like  them ,  to  quit  it  when  your  coun¬ 
try  calls  V  One  of  the  United  Irish  leaders  writes  to  him 
to  draw  upon  him  for  two  hundred  pounds.  All  urged 
him  to  force  his  way  to  France  to  supplicate  their  assist¬ 
ance.  His  resolution  was  instantly  taken.  He  called 
again  on  the  French  minister,  and  now  found  him  as  eager 
to  forward  his  plans  as  he  had  been  cool  about  them  be¬ 
fore.  He  had  written  home  for  instructions,  and  received 
an  order  from  the  Directory  to  urge  Tone  to  repair  imme¬ 
diately  to  France.  He  gave  him  a  letter  in  cipher  to  the 
Committee  of  Public  Safety.  Tone  returned  to  Princeton 
to  take  leave  of  his  family.  He  was  accompanied  by  Ham¬ 
ilton  Eowan.  “  That  night  we  supped  together  in  high 
spirits ;  and  Rowan  retiring  immediately  after,  my  wife, 


SAILS  FOR  FRANCE. 


109 


sister  and  I,  sat  together  till  very  late,  engaged  in  that  kind 
of  animated  and  enthusiastic  conversation  which  our  char¬ 
acters  and  the  nature  of  the  enterprise  I  was  embarked  in, 
may  be  supposed  to  give  rise  to.  The  courage  and  firm¬ 
ness  of  the  women  supported  me,  and  them  too,  beyond 
my  expectations  ;  we  had  neither  tears  nor  lamentations, 
but  on  the  contrary  the  most  ardent  hope  and  the  most 
steady  resolution.  At  four  the  next  morning  I  embraced 
them  both  for  the  last  time,  and  we  parted  with  a  steadi¬ 
ness  which  astonished  me.”  While  in  New  York,  waiting 
for  a  ship,  his  brother  Matthew,  who,  after  a  variety  of  ad¬ 
ventures,  had  just  been  released  from  a  French  prison,  ar¬ 
rived  in  America.  But  the  brothers  did  not  know  that 
they  were  so  near  each  other,  and  did  not  meet.  Tone 
sailed  from  New  York  on  the  first  day  of  the  new  year 
1796,  leaving  his  family  to  follow  him,  if  he  should  settle 
in  France.  Once  on  the  voyage  they  were  chased  by  a 
Bermudian,  so  that  he  threw  overboard  a  part  of  his 
papers.  But  their  ship  was  stout,  and  flew  fast  across  the 
waves.  In  exactly  one  month  Tone  landed  at  Havre,  and 
immediately  made  his  way  to  Paris. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Tone  in  France. — Shiel’s  Speech. — Acquaintance  with  James  Monroe. — 
Audience  of  Carnot.- — Life  in  Paris. — Plans  for  invading  Ireland. — ■ 
General  Hoche. — Tone’s  Introduction. — Council  of  War  with  Hoche 
and  Carnot. 

With  Tone’s  mission  to  France  begin  the  most  impor¬ 
tant  transactions  of  his  life.  It  was  in  executing  this  that 
he  accomplished  most  for  the  liberation  of  Ireland.  The 
circumstances  in  which  he  embarked  in  that  solitary 
enterprise,  must  be  understood  to  appreciate  the  force  of 
his  character.  We  have  now  lying  before  us  a  speech  of 
Mr.  Shiel,  the  brilliant  orator  of  the  English  Parliament ; 
a  speech  made  at  the  time  that  he  was  agitating  with 
O’Connel  for  Catholic  Emancipation,  in  which  he  thus 
refers  to  Tone 

“  I  hold  in  my  hand  a  book  which  has  recently  arrived 
here  from  America, — the  life  of  the  unfortunate  and 
deluded  Theobald  Wolfe  Tone.  Of  his  character  upon 
this  occasion  it  is  not  necessary  to  say  any  thing,  except 
that  he  was  loved  and  prized  by  all  who  knew  him.  He 
was  chivalrous,  aspiring,  and  enthusiastic ;  and  possessed, 
not  only  of  great  talents,  but  what  is  in  politics  of  still 
more  importance,  of  dauntless  determination.  *  *  *  It  is 


SHIEL’S  SPEECH. 


Ill 


right  to  put  you  in  possession  of  the  exact  circumstances 
in  which  Tone  was  placed,  that  you  may  judge  how  much 
was  accomplished  by  a  single  man,  in  the  midst  of  diffi¬ 
culties  which  it  is  almost  wonderful  that  he  should  have 
surmounted.  In  the  year  1795  Tone  retired  to  America 
with  his  wife  (an  incomparable  woman)  and  two  children. 
He  had  eight  hundred  pounds  in  the  world.  At  first  he 
formed  an  intention  of  remaining  in  the  United  States,  but 
liberty  and  the  savannahs  were  not  enough  for  him. 
Tone  was  one  of  those  restless  spirits  who  feel  that  they 
are  born  for  great  undertakings.  He  set  sail  for  France 
with  a  mind  full  of  hope,  and  with  no  more  than  one 
hundred  guineas  in  his  pocket.  He  arrived  at  Havre  on 
the  first  of  February,  1796,  and  proceeded  at  once  to 
Paris.  When  he  was  placed  in  the  midst  of  that  city,  and 
stood  upon  the  Pont-neuf,  he  looked  upon  the  vast  array 
of  palaces  turned  into  the  domicils  of  democracy ;  he  saw 
the  metropolis  of  France  in  all  its  vastness  and  glory, 
and  he  also  felt  what  Seneca  has  so  well  expressed, — urbs 
magna,  magna  solitudo.  Still,  although  without  a  friend, 
nay  (for  the  former  is  not  so  uncommon)  without  an 
acquaintance,  poor,  desolate,  thrown  as  it  were,  and  ship¬ 
wrecked  upon  France,  his  vast  design  did  not  leave  him.” 

After  detailing  Tone’s  negotiations  with  the  Minister 
of  Foreign  Affairs,  Shiel  proceeds : — 

“  He  took  at  last  a  wise  determination,  and  went  directly 
to  Carnot,  the  president  of  the  Directory  of  France. 
Carnot  was  justly  called  “the  organizer  of  victory,”  and 
he  was  induced  to  extend  his  genius  for  organization  to 
Ireland.  Tone  succeeded  so  far  as  to  induce  the  French 


112 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


government  to  determine  upon  an  invasion  of  this  coun¬ 
try.  At  first  the  project  was  lamely  and  imperfectly  got 
up.  But  to  prevail  to  any  extent  was  to  do  much.  It  is 
really  matter  for  surprise  that  such  a  man  as  Tone,  without 
rank,  fortune,  or  a  single  friend,  could  accomplish  so  much. 
Yet  it  remains  to  he  seen  that  Tone  did  much  more.  The 
French  at  first  proposed  to  send  only  2000  men.  Tone 
saw  at  once  that  such  a  measure  would  he  utterly  absurd. 
By  much  ado  he  persuaded  them  to  increase  the  army  to 
8000  men,  with  50,000  stand  of  arms.  At  length  Hoche, 
a  general  of  great  fame,  was  induced  to  put  himself  at  the 
head  of  the  expedition;  and  as  he  felt  that  great  objects 
must  be  attained  by  great  means,  he  required  15,000  men, 
a  great  body  of  cannoniers,  a  vast  supply  of  cannon,  and 
arms  for  the  whole  population.  Such  was  the  force  that 
sailed  from  Brest.  There  were  seventeen  ships  of  the 
line  in  attendance  upon  the  army.  It  was  Wolfe  Tone 
who  accomplished  all  this.  It  was  his  vigorous  and 
aspiring  mind  that  filled  the  sails  of  that  great  fleet,  and 
wafted  them  upon  their  course.” 

When  Tone  entered  the  walls  of  Paris,  he  knew  not  a 
human  being  in  it.  The  first  man  to  whom  he  directed 
his  steps  was  James  Monroe,  at  that  time  the  American 
minister.  He  had  brought  a  letter  of  introduction.  Monroe 
received  him  very  politely,  and  during  the  whole  time  he 
was  in  Paris,  aided  him  materially  in  his  plans.  He 
directed  him  to  the  Secretary  for  Foreign  Affairs,  and 
allowed  him  to  refer  the  government  to  himself  for  infor¬ 
mation  as  to  his  character  and  standing.  The  minister  had 


ACQUAINTANCE  WITH  JAMES  MONROE.  113 


his  letter  from  the  French  agent  at  Philadelphia  immedi¬ 
ately  deciphered  and  laid  before  the  Directory,  who  con¬ 
sidered  it  of  the  highest  importance.  The  minister  ended 
by  directing  him  to  a  confidential  agent  of  the  government, 
who  spoke  the  English  language,  and  to  whom  he  could 
explain  himself  without  reserve.  This  person,  whose 
name  was  Madgett,  was  delighted  to  see  him.  He  assured 
Tone  that  “  the  government  had  their  attention  turned 
most  seriously  to  Irish  affairs ;  that  they  felt  that  unless 
they  could  separate  Ireland  from  England,  the  latter  was 
invulnerable ;  that  they  were  willing  to  conclude  a  treaty 
offensive  and  defensive  with  Ireland;  that  they  would 
supply  ten  sail  of  the  line,  arms,  and  money ;  and  that  they 
were  already  making  arrangements  in  Spain  and  Holland 
for  that  purpose.” 

This  was  very  gratifying,  but  Tone  soon  found  that  it 
would  not  do  to  transact  his  business  with  a  subordinate. 
Monroe,  who  conversed  with  him  without  reserve,  said, 
“You  must  change  your  plan;  I  have  no  doubt  whatever 
of  the  integrity  and  sincerity  of  the  minister  De  la  Croix, 
aor  even  of  Madgett,  whom  I  believe  to  be  honest.  But 
m  the  first  place,  it  is  a  subaltern  way  of  doing  business, 
ind  in  the  next,  the  vanity  of  Madgett  will  be  very  likely 
,o  lead  him,  in  order  to  raise  his  importance  in  the  eyes  of 
some  of  his  countrymen,  who  are  here  as  patriots,  to  drop 
some  hint  of  what  is  going  forward.  Go  at  once  to  the 
Executive  Directory  and  demand  an  audience ;  explain 
/■ourself  to  them,  and  as  to  me,  you  may  go  so  far  as  to 
•efer  to  me  for  the  authenticity  of  what  you  may  advance, 
md  you  may  add,  that  I  am  in  a  degree  apprised  of  your 


114 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES 


business.”  Tone  expressed  a  doubt  whether,  as  he  was  al¬ 
ready  in  the  hands  of  La  Croix,  there  might  not  be  some 
indelicacy  in  going  directly  to  the  Directory.  Monroe  an¬ 
swered,  “  By  no  means,  that  in  his  own  functions  the 
proper  person  to  communicate  with  was  La  Croix,  but  that 
nevertheless,  when  he  had  any  business  of  consequence,  he 
went  at  once  to  the  fountain-head.”  “  He  then  proceeded 
to  mention,  that  in  all  the  changes  which  had  taken  place 
in  France,  there  never  was  an  abler  or  purer  set  of  men  at 
the  head  of  affairs  than  at  present ;  that  they  were  sincere 
friends  to  liberty  and  justice,  and  in  no  wise  actuated  by  a 
spirit  of  conquest ;  that  consequently,  if  they  took  up  the 
business  of  Ireland  on  my  motion,  I  would  find  them  per¬ 
fectly  fair  and  candid ;  that  not  only  the  government,  but 
the  whole  people  were  most  violently  exasperated  against 
England,  and  that  there  was  no  one  thing  that  could  at 
once  command  the  warmest  support  of  all  parties,  so  much 
as  any  measure  which  promised  a  reduction  of  her  power.” 
He  told  him  afterward  that  Carnot  was  a  military  man, 
and  one  of  the  first  engineers  of  Europe. 

The  very  next  day  Tone  presented  himself  at  the  Lux¬ 
embourg,  and  demanded  an  audience  of  Carnot.  He  soon 
found  himself  closeted  in  a  private  cabinet  with  the  organ¬ 
izer  of  victory.  All  this  time,  Tone  was  passing  under  an 
assumed  name,  to  conceal  his  movements  from  the  spies 
of  the  English  government  who  might  be  in  Paris.  There 
was  a  multitude  of  English  agents  who  passed  themselves 
off  as  Americans.  Tone  was  dogged  by  spies.  Even  in 
the  antechamber  of  the  minister  his  path  was  crossed  by  a 
very  suspicious  character.  In  his  first  interview  with 


LIFE  IN  PARIS. 


115 


'‘Carnot  he  presented  himself  as  the  representative  of  the 
United  Irishmen,  to  make  a  statement  of  the  condition  of 
his  country,  and  forgot  to  mention  his  name.  Hardly  had 
he  left  the  room  when  this  omission  occurred  to  him,  and 
he  turned  back  to  correct  it.  “I  then  told  Carnot,  that  as 
to  my  situation,  credit,  and  the  station  I  had  filled  in 
Ireland,  I  begged  leave  to  refer  him  to  James  Monroe,  the 
American  embassador.  He  seemed  struck  with  this,  and 
then  for  the  first  time,  asked  my  name.  I  told  him  in  fact 
I  had  two  names,  my  real  one,  and  that  under  which  I 
traveled,  and  was  described  in  my  passport.  I  then  took 
a  slip  of  paper,  and  wrote  the  name,  ‘James  Smith,  citoyen 
Americain,’  and  under  it,  Theobald  Wolfe  Tone,  which  I 
handed  him,  adding  that  my  real  name  was  the  undermost. 
He  took  the  paper,  and  looking  over  it  said,  Ha !  Theobald 
Wolfe  Tone !  with  the  expression  of  one  who  has  just  re¬ 
collected  a  circumstance.  I  then  told  him  I  would  finish 
my  memorial  as  soon  as  possible,  and  hoped  he  would  per¬ 
mit  me  in  the  course  of  a  few  days  to  present  myself  to 
him  again,  to  which  he  answered,  By  all  means.” 

The  diary  of  Tone  at  this  period  abounds  in  the  most 
lively  sketches  of  his  negotiations  with  the  French  govern¬ 
ment,  and  of  the  principal  personages  then  in  Paris.  Confin¬ 
ing  himself  strictly  to  the  object  of  his  mission,  he  sought 
no  acquaintance.  During  the  seven  months  he  was  in 
Paris,  he  did  not  become  acquainted  with  a  single  family. 
His  sole  intercourse  was  with  the  government,  the  Directo¬ 
ry,  ministers,  secretaries  or  generals,  or  with  two  or  three 
Irishmen  whom  he  chanced  to  meet.  Much  of  his  time 
was  passed  in  drawing  up  memorials  on  the  state  of 


116 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


Ireland.  When  the  business  of  writing  was  oyer,  he  went 
to  dine  at  the  Palais  Royal ;  or  strolled  to  the  Champ  de 
Mars  to  witness  a  military  review,  or  sauntered  with  a 
friend  under  the  trees  of  the  Champs  Elysees.  As  he  rode 
into  the  country,  his  eye  ranged  with  delight  over  the 
plentiful  harvests,  the  orchards,  the  vineyards,  “  the  fields 
all  rich  with  corn  and  wine.”  Nothing  looked  desolate, 
but  the  chateaux  of  the  old  nobility.  These  were  deserted 
and  solitary,  for  their  owners  were  gone.  In  the  evening, 
his  constant  resource  was  the  theater  and  the  opera.  He 
says,  “  All  the  theaters  are  as  full  every  night  as  they  can 
hold.”  He  could  not  resist  the  enthusiasm  with  which  the 
French  sung  the  Chant  du  Depart,  and  the  glorious  strains 
of  the  Marseillaise  hymn,  when  at  the  verse,  “  Tremblez 
tyrans,”  the  whole  audience  rose  to  their  feet,  and  the 
theater  rang  with  applause. 

France  at  that  moment  presented  a  heroic  spectacle. 
She  was  then  maintaining  in  the  field  fourteen  armies,  in¬ 
cluding  nearly  a  million  of  men.  A  young  lieutenant  had 
just  gone  off  to  take  command  of  the  army  of  Italy,  and 
Tone  mentioning  soon  after  in  his  journal  the  victories  of 
Montenotte  and  of  Millesimo,  gives  this  piece  of  intelli¬ 
gence,  “  The  French  general  is  Bonaparte,  a  Corsican.” 

Tone  had  a  most  arduous  task  before  him,  yet  even  in 
moments  of  the  greatest  difficulty,  he  kept  up  a  brave 
heart.  Whenever  in  his  journal  he  has  occasion  to  men¬ 
tion  any  disaster  which  threatens  to  defeat  his  schemes,  he 
commonly  ends  with  some  quotation  such  as,  “  ’Tis  but  in 
vain,  for  soldiers  to  complain,”  or  “How  merrily  we  live 
that  soldiers  be.” 


PLANS  FOR  INVADING  IRELAND. 


117 


Many  years  after,  tlie  journals  of  Tone  were  published 
in  full  by  his  son,  and  constitute  an  autobiography  of  ro¬ 
mantic  interest.  “  To  this  book,”  says  Moore,  “  I  must 
refer  the  reader  for  particulars,  adding  only  my  opinion, 
that  there  are  few  books,  whether  for  the  matter  or  the 
manner,  more  interesting ;  the  character  of  the  writer  him¬ 
self  presenting  the  most  truly  Irish  mixture  of  daring  in 
design  and  light-heartedness  in  execution ;  while  the  sense 
of  awe  with  which  it  is  impossible  not  to  contemplate  a 
mission  pregnant  with  such  consequences,  is  forever  re¬ 
lieved  by  those  alternate  flashes  of  humor  and  sentiment 
with  which  only  a  temperament  so  national  could  have  en¬ 
livened  or  softened  such  details.”* 

Tone  now  drew  up  full  memorials  on  the  state  of  Ire¬ 
land,  in  which  he  stated  the  population  and  resources  of 
hat  country,  their  political  discontent,  and  the  organiza¬ 
tions  which  had  been  formed  for  revolution.  He  then 
vent  on  to  state  the  troops  necessary  for  a  successful  inva- 
ion,  and  the  places  on  the  coast  at  which  they  should  land, 
hll  these  points  he  detailed  more  minutely  and  repeatedly 
a  conversation.  He  said  that  with  20,000  men  there 
rould  be  no  possibility  of  resistance  for  an  hour,  and  they 
iiould  begin  with  the  capital.  They  would  then  have  all 
re  offices  of  government  instantly  in  their  hands.  With 
,000  men  he  would  have  no  doubt  of  success,  but  they 
rast  expect  some  hard  fighting,  and  should  begin  near 
elfast,  as  the  province  of  Ulster  was  the  most  populous 
id  warlike  in  the  kingdom,  and  it  was  there  the  United 
■ishmen  were  the  strongest.  He  pointed  out  on  a  map 
*  Life  of  Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald,  vol.  i.  p.  198. 


118 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


of  Ireland  the  position  of  Belfast.  In  case  of  landing  here 
with  hut  five  thousand  men,  they  should  push  immedi¬ 
ately  for  the  mountains  of  Mourne  and  the  Fews,  by  means 
of  which  and  of  Lough  Erne,  they  would  cover  the  entire 
province  of  Ulster,  and  maintain  themselves  until  they  had 
collected  their  friends  in  sufficient  force  to  penetrate  to 
Dublin.  He  suggested  at  the  same  time  that  if  possible,  a 
second  landing  should  be  made  in  the  bay  of  Galway, 
which  army  should  cover  itself  as  soon  as  possible  by  the 
Shannon,  breaking  down  most  of  the  bridges  and  fortify¬ 
ing  the  remainder.  They  would  thus  begin  with  one  half 
the  nation,  and  that  the  most  discontented  part.  As  the 
Irish  had  been  little  accustomed  to  the  use  of  artillery, 
they  would  need  a  large  body  of  cannoniers.  As,  how¬ 
ever,  they  had  no  strongly  fortified  towns,  they  need  only 
be  provided  with  light  field-pieces,  with  a  few  sixteen- 
pounders.  The  minister  seemed  somewhat  staggered  al 
the  demand  of  20,000  men.  He  said  that  they  could  not 
possibly  be  transported,  unless  the  French  were  masters  of 
the  channel,  in  which  case  they  could  as  well  send  40,000. 
or  60,000,  and  march  at  once  to  London.  The  Directory 
therefore  proposed  a  small  expedition — -not  more  thar 
2,000.  Tone  declared  flatly  that  with  that  number  k 
thought  the  business  utterly  desperate,  for  that  let  then 
land  where  they  would,  they  would  be  utterly  defeated  be 
fore  any  one  could  join  them.  Five  thousand  men  h( 
thought  the  very  lowest  number  that  would  afford  any 
chance  of  success,  and  he  had  the  satisfaction  to  see  that 
as  he  stood  firm  in  his  demands,  the  views  of  the  govern 
ment  steadily  rose.  He  insisted  further,  that  if  Frano 


(; 

j 

til 

91 

ill 


PLANS  FOR  INVADING  IRELAND. 


119 


could  not  send  more  than  five  or  six  thousand,  they  should 
be  the  very  best  troops — not  merely  disciplined  soldiers, 
but  men  accustomed  to  stand  fire,  some  of  the  old  bat¬ 
talions  from  Holland  or  the  Rhine. 

“  As  to  the  place  of  embarkation,”  he  said,  “  it  might 
be  worth  consideration  whether  it  could  not  be  best  effected 
from  Holland ;  that  their  harbors  were  less  closely  watched 
than  the  French ;  and  that  at  any  rate  England  has  no 
port  for  ships  of  war  to  the  northward  of  Portsmouth ;  so 
that  even  if  she  had  a  fleet  off  the  coasts  of  Holland,  it 
must  return  occasionally  to  refit,  and  during  one  of  these 
intervals,  the  expedition  might  take  place.” 

He  dwelt  much  on  the  fact  that  two  thirds  of  the  sea¬ 
men  in  the  British  navy  were  Irishmen.  “  Since  the  com¬ 
mencement  of  the  present  war  Ireland  had  furnished  Eng¬ 
land  200,000  men,  of  whom  80,000  were  for  the  navy.” 
He  detailed  the  preparations  which  had  been  made  in  Ire¬ 
land  for  immediately  organizing  a  new  government.  “  The 
Catholic  committee  is  already  a  complete  representation  of 
that  body ;  and  the  Dissenters  are  so  prepared  that  they 
can  immediately  choose  delegates.  Those  two  bodies  when 
joined,  will  represent  numerically  nine  tenths  of  the  peo¬ 
ple,  and  of  course,  under  existing  circumstances,  are  the 
oest  government  that  we  can  form  at  the  moment.”  His 
vishes  were  in  favor  of  a  very  strong,  or  even  military  gov¬ 
ernment  at  the  outset,  to  give  stability  to  the  new  order  of 
hings. 

The  Directory  began  to  see  the  immense  importance  of 
avading  Ireland.  But  they  wished  first  to  send  a  person 
d  that  country  to  obtain  the  latest  intelligence  in  regard  to 


120 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


its  political  condition.  Tlie  matter  was  proposed  to  Tone, 
lie  answered  that  he  was  too  well  known  to  be  there  four- 
and-twenty  hours  without  being  seized ;  that  consequently 
he  was  the  most  unfit  person  in  the  world.  Besides  they 
would  find  in  the  English  papers,  and  much  more  in  the 
Irish,  sufficient  evidence  of  the  state  of  the  country  to 
support  every  word  he  had  advanced. 

The  project  of  sending  such  an  emissary  he  thought 
dangerous,  not  only  to  the  individual,  but  to  the  cause. 
Whoever  went,  he  cautioned  him  not  to  carry  any  papers, 
not  to  write  a  syllable,  nor  to  take  a  scrape  of  a  pen  with 
him,  nor  to  speak  to  above  four  or  five  persons,  whom  he 
woidd  point  out,  for  fear  of  hazarding  a  discovery  which 
might  blast  all.  In  fact,  from  want  of  proper  caution,  an 
emissary  who  was  sent,  was  seized  just  as  he  was  about  to 
embark  at  Margate  for  France,  and  tried  and  executed. 

In  all  his  communications  with  the  directory,  Tone  had 
insisted  much  on  the  importance  of  an  able  general  at  the 
head  of  the  expedition.  He  had  wished  for  Pichegru  as 
the  one  whose  name  was  most  known  in  Ireland,  and  next 
to  him  Jourdan.  The  command  fell  upon  one  younger 
and  less  known  abroad,  but  a  greater  military  genius  than 
either.  Early  in  July  Tone  was  informed  that  General 
Hoche  was  coming  up  with  all  privacy  to  Paris,  to  confer 
with  the  Directory  on  the  expedition.  This  youthful  sol¬ 
dier  had  begun  his  career  as  a  sergeant  in  the  French 
guards,  and  by  the  force  of  his  intellect  had  risen  to  the 
rank  of  a  general  in  a  single  campaign.  His  rise  was  as 
sudden  as  that  of  Napoleon.  He  discovered  the  same  pre¬ 
cocious  genius  in  the  art  of  war.  He  received  the  com- 


GENERAL  HOCHE. 


121 


mand  of  the  army  of  the  Moselle.  He  defeated  Wurmser 
and  drove  the  Austrians  out  of  Alsace.  Jealous  of  his 
growing  popularity  and  power,  the  Committee  of  Public 
Safety  had  seized  and  imprisoned  him.  He  was  saved 
from  the  guillotine  by  the  fall  of  Eobespierre.  Released 
from  prison,  he  began  a  new  career  of  victory.  He  was 
appointed  to  the  command  of  the  army  in  La  Vendee. 
That  province  had  long  stood  out  against  the  armies  of  the 
Republic.  To  Hoche  was  reserved  the  glory  of  being,  not 
only  its  conqueror,  but  its  pacificator.  In  the  manage¬ 
ment  of  this  civil  war  he  had  shown,  not  only  the  impetu¬ 
osity  of  a  soldier  in  battle,  but  the  humanity,  and  the  con¬ 
ciliating  policy  of  an  old  and  wise  statesman.  He  was  as 
humane  as  he  was  brave.  He  afterward  said  to  Tone,  that 
great  mischief  had  been  done  to  the  principles  of  liberty, 
md  additional  difficulties  thrown  in  the  way  of  the  French 
Revolution  by  the  quantity  of  blood  spilled.  “For,”  he 
idded,  “when  you  guillotine  a  man,  you  get  rid  of  an  indi- 
/idual,  it  is  true,  but  then  you  make  all  his  friends  and 
;onnections  enemies  forever  to  the  government.” 

The  account  which  Tone  gives  of  his  first  interview 
vith  Hoche  will  show  the  spirit  with  which  his  journal 
/as  kept : — 

“July  12. — As  I  was  sitting  in  my  cabinet,  studying 
ictics,  a  person  knocked  at  the  door,  who,  on  opening  it, 
roved  to  be  a  dragoon  of  the  third  regiment.  He 
rought  me  a  note  from  Clarke,*  informing  me  that  the 

*  Clarke,  afterward  Duke  of  Feltre,  and  Minister  of  War  under  Na- 
)leon,  was  the  son  of  an  Irishman,  and  had  himself  been  in  that  country, 
e  figures  much  in  these  negotiations. 

F 


122 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


person  lie  mentioned  was  arrived,  and  desired  to  see  me  at 
one  o’clock.  I  ran  off  directly  to  tlie  Luxembourg,  and 
was  showed  into  Fleury’s  cabinet,  where  I  remained  till 
three,  when  the  door  opened,  and  a  very  handsome,  well- 
made  young  fellow,  in  a  brown  coat  and  nankeen  pant¬ 
aloons,  entered  and  said,  “  Vous  etes  le  citoyen  Smith  ?”  I 
thought  he  was  a  chef  de  bureau,  and  replied,  “  Oui, 
citoyen,  je  m'appelle  Smith.”  He  said,  “  Vous  vous  appelez 
aussi,  je  crois,  Wolfe  Tone.”  I  replied,  “  Oui  citoyen,  c'est 
mon  veritable  nom .”  “Eh  bien,”  replied  he,  “je  suis  le  general' 
Hoche.”  At  these  words  I  mentioned  that  I  had  for  a 
long  time  been  desirous  of  the  honor  I  then  enjoyed  to 
find  myself  in  his  company.  He  then  said  he  presumed  I 
■was  the  author  of  the  memorials  which  had  been  trans¬ 
mitted  to  him.  I  said  I  was.  Well,  said  he,  there  are  one 
or  two  points  I  want  to  consult  you  on.  He  then  pro¬ 
ceeded  to  ask  me,  in  case  of  the  landing  being  effected, 
might  he  rely  on  finding  provisions,  and  particularly 
bread?  I  said  it  would  be  impossible  to  make  any  ar¬ 
rangements  in  Ireland,  previous  to  the  landing,  because  of 
the  surveillance  of  the  government ;  but  if  that  were  once 
accomplished,  there  would  be  no  want  of  provisions ;  that 
Ireland  abounded  in  cattle ;  and  as  for  bread,  I  saw  by  the 
Gazette  that  there  was  not  only  no  deficiency  of  corn,  but 
that  she  was  able  to  supply  England,  in  a  great  degree 
during  the  late  alarming  scarcity  in  that  country ;  and  1 
assured  him  that  if  the  French  were  once  in  Ireland,  he 
might  rely  that,  whoever  wanted  bread,  they  should  not, 
want  it.  He  seemed  satisfied  with  this,  and  proceeded  tc 
ask  me,  might  we  count  upon  being  able  to  form  a  pro 


INTERVIEW  WITH  H  0  C  H  E. 


123 


yisory  government,  eitlier  of  the  Catholic  committee, 
mentioned  in  my  memorials,  or  of  tlie  chiefs  of  the 
Defenders  ?  I  thought  I  saw  an  opening  here  to  come  at 
the  number  of  troops  intended  for  us,  and  replied  that 
that  would  depend  on  the  force  which  might  be  landed ; 
if  that  force  were  but  trifling,  I  could  not  pretend  to  say 
how  they  might  act ;  but  if  it  was  considerable,  I  had  no 
doubt  of  their  co-operation.  “  Undoubtedly,”  replied  he, 
“  men  will  not  sacrifice  themselves  when  they  do  not  see 
a  reasonable  prospect  of  support ;  but  if  I  go,  you  may  be 
sure  I  will  go  in  sufficient  force.”-  He  then  asked,  did  I 
think  ten  thousand  men  would  decide  them?  I  answered, 
undoubtedly ;  but  that  early  in  the  business  the  minister 
had  spoken  to  me  of  two  thousand,  and  that  I  had  replied 
that  such  a  number  would  effect  nothing.  Ho,  replied  he, 
they  would  be  overwhelmed  before  any  one  could  join 
them.  I  was  glad  to  hear  him  give  that  opinion,  as  it  was 
precisely  what  I  had  stated  to  the  minister.  lie  then 
.asked  me  what  I  thought  of  the  priests,  or  was  it  likely 
they  would  give  us  any  trouble  ?  I  replied,  I  certainly 
did  not  calculate  on  their  assistance,  but  neither  did  I 
think  they  would  be  able  to  give  us  any  effectual  opposi¬ 
tion  ;  that  their  influence  over  the  minds  of  the  common 
people  was  exceedingly  diminished  of  late.  I  explained 
all  this  at  some  length,  and  concluded  by  saying  that,  in 
prudence,  we  should  avoid  as  much  as  possible  shocking 
their  prejudices  unnecessarily;  and,  that  with  common 
discretion,  I  thought  we  might  secure  their  neutrality  at 
least,  if  not  their  support.  I  mentioned  this  merely  as  my 
opinion,  but  added,  that  in  the  contrary  event,  I  was 


124 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


satisfied  it  would  be  absolutely  impossible  for  them  to  take 
tbe  people  out  of  our  bands.  W e  then  came  to  the  army. 
He  asked  me  how  I  thought  they  would  act  ?  I  replied, 
for  the  regulars  I  could  not  pretend  to  say,  but  that  they 
were  wretched  bad  troops ;  for  the  militia,  I  hoped  and 
believed,  that  when  we  were  once  organized,  they  would 
not  only  not  oppose  us,  but  come  over  to  the  cause  of  their 
country  en  masse ;  nevertheless,  I  desired  him  to  calculate 
on  their  opposition,  and  make  his  arrangements  accord¬ 
ingly;  that  it  was  the  safe  policy,  and  if  it  became 
necessary,  it  was  so  much  gained.  He  said  he  would 
undoubtedly  make  his  arrangements  so  as  to  leave  nothing 
to  chance  that  could  be  guarded  against ;  that  he  would 
come  in  force,  and  bring  great  quantities  of  arms,  ammuni¬ 
tion,  stores,  and  artillery ;  and  for  his  own  reputation,  see 
that  all  the  arrangements  were  made  on  a  proper  scale. 
He  then  said  there  was  one  important  point  remaining,  on 
which  he  desired  to  be  satisfied ;  and  that  was,  what  form 
of  government  we  would  adopt  on  the  event  of  our 
success  ?  I  was  going  to  answer  him  with  great  earnest¬ 
ness,  when  General  Clarke  entered  to  request  we  would 
come  to  dinner  with  citizen  Carnot.  We  accordingly 
adjourned  the  conversation  to  the  apartment  of  the  pres¬ 
ident,  where  we  found  Carnot  and  one  or  two  more. 
Hoche,  after  some  time,  took  me  aside,  and  repeated  his 
question.  I  replied,  1  Most  undoubtedly  a  republic.’  He 
asked  again,  was  I  sure?  I  said,  as  sure  as  I  could  be  of 
any  thing ;  that  I  knew  nobody  in  Ireland  who  dreamed 
of  any  other  system,  nor  did  I  believe  there  was  any  body 
who  dreamt  of  monarchy.  He  asked  me,  was  there  nc 


COUNCIL  WITH  HOCHE  AND  CARNOT.  125 


danger  of  the  Catholics  setting  up  one  of  their  chiefs  for 
king?  I  replied,  ‘Not  the  smallest,’ and  that  there  were 
no  chiefs  among  them  of  that  kind  of  eminence.” 

This  question  was  often  put  to  Tone,  and  he  always 
answered,  that  Ireland,  if  free,  would  become  a  republic. 
He  afterward  said  to  Clarke,  that  “as  to  royalty  and 
aristocracy,  they  were  both  odious  in  Ireland  to  that 
degree,  that  he  apprehended  much  more  a  general  massacre 
of  the  gentry,  and  a  distribution  of  the  entire  of  their 
property,  than  the  establishment  of  any  form  of  govern¬ 
ment  that  would  perpetuate  their  influence ;  that  he  hoped 
this  massacre  would  not  happen,  and  that  he,  for  one, 
would  do  all  in  his  power  to  prevent  it,  because  he  did  not 
like  to  spill  the  blood  even  of  the  guilty ;  at  the  same  time 
that  the  pride,  cruelty,  and  oppression  of  the  Irish  aristoc¬ 
racy  were  so  great,  that  he  apprehended  every  excess 
from  the  just  resentment  of  the  people.”  At  the  same 
time  he  thought  the  French  would  act  wisely,  not  to 
dictate  the  form  of  government  to  the  Irish.  He  wished 
them  to  come,  not  as  conquerors,  but  as  liberators,  to  assist 
Ireland  to  gain  her  own  independence,  as  they  had  assisted 
America.  There  was  a  very  natural  jealousy  in  Ireland 
of  foreign  interference,  and  Tone  was  careful  to  guard 
the  Directory  from  a  false  impression. 

“  Carnot  joined  us  here  with  a  pocket  map  of  Ireland 
in  his  hand,  and  the  conversation  became  pretty  general 
between  Clarke,  Hoche,  and  him,  every  one  else  having 
left  the  room.  I  said  scarcely  any  thing,  as  I  wished  to 
listen.  Hoche  related  to  Carnot  the  substance  of  what 
had  passed  between  him  and  me.  When  he  mentioned  his 


126 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


anxiety  as  to  bread,  Carnot  laughed,  and  said,  1  There  is 
plenty  of  beef  in  Ireland ;  if  you  can  not  get  bread,  you 
must  eat  beef.’  They  soon  went  off  to  dinner, — Carnot 
saying,  ‘  It  will  be,  to  be  sure,  a  most  brilliant  operation.’  ” 

Tone  sat  down  to  cline  with  Madame  Carnot  and  her 
family,  with  a  number  of  officers  of  the  Republic.  After 
coffee  was  served,  they  rose,  and  Carnot,  Hoche,  Truguet, 
the  minister  of  Marine,  Lacuee,  a  member  of  the  Council 
of  Ancients,  and  the  chosen  friend  of  Carnot,  and  Clarke, 
retired  to  hold  a  council  on  Irish  affairs.  Tone  walked 
with  Lagarde  the  secretaire  general  in  the  gardens  of  the 
Luxembourg,  where  they  listened  to  a  symphony  per¬ 
formed  in  the  apartments  of  La  Reveilhere  Lepaux,  one 
of  the  Directory,  who  had  concerts  continually,  taking 
music  as  his  resource  after  the  fatigues  of  his  business, 
which  were  immense.  At  nine  the  council  broke  up, 
and  Tone  and  Clarke  walked  away  together. 

Tone  adds  to  his  account  of  this  interview : — “Hoche 
has  a  famous  cut  of  a  sabre  down  his  forehead,  eyebrow, 
and  one  side  of  his  nose.  He  was  pretty  near  the  enemy 
when  he  got  that,  and  luckily  it  does  not  at  all  disfigure 
him.  He  is  but  two-and-thirty.  Jourdan  five-and- thirty, 
Buonaparte  twenty- nine,  Moreau  about  thirty,  and  Piche- 
gru,  who  is  the  oldest  of  all,  about  six-and-thirty.  The 
French  have  no  old  generals  in  their  service ;  it  is  their 
policy  to  employ  young  men,  and  the  event  has  shown 
they  are  right.” 

He  adds  also : — “  Hoche  praised  Sir  Sydney  Smith, 
now  prisoner  in  Paris,  as  a  gallant  officer.  He  said,  ‘ 11  a 
unc  rude  reputation  en  Bretagne  and  that  there  was  hardly 


A  COUNCIL  OF  WAR. 


127 


a  cape  or  headland  on  the  coast  which  was  not  marked  by 
some  of  his  exploits.  I  like  to  hear  one  brave  man  praise 
another.  Carnot  said  they  would  take  care  of  him  for 
some  time,  and  that  he  should  certainly  not  be  ex¬ 
changed.” 

In  the  life  of  Curran  an  interview  between  the  same 
personages  is  thus  strikingly  related : — 

“  Soon  after  the  question  of  an  expedition  to  Ireland 
had  been  left  to  the  decision  of  Carnot,  Clarke  and  Hoche, 
they  named  an  evening  to  meet  Tone  at  the  palace  of  the 
Luxembourg.  Tone  arrived  at  the  appointed  hour,  eight 
o’clock.  He  was  ushered  into  a  sjhendid  apartment. 
Shortly  after  the  director  and  the  generals  made  their  ap¬ 
pearance  :  they  bowed  coldly,  but  civilly,  to  Tone,  and  al¬ 
most  immediately  retired,  without  apology  or  explanation, 
through  a  door  opposite  to  that  by  which  they  had  en¬ 
tered.  Tone  was  a  good  deal  struck  by  so  unexpected  a 
reception,  but  his  surprise  increased  when  ten  o’clock  ar¬ 
rived,  without  the  appearance  of,  or  message  of  any  kind, 
from  those  on  whom  all  his  hopes  seemed  to  depend. 
The  clock  struck  eleven,  twelve,  one — all  was  still  in  the 
palace ;  the  steps  of  the  sentinels  on  their  posts  without, 
alone  interrupted  the  dead  silence  that  prevailed  within. 
Tone  paced  the  room  in  considerable  anxiety ;  not  even  a 
servant  had  entered,  of  whom  to  inquire  his  way  out,  or 
if  the  director  and  the  generals  had  retired.  About  two 
o’clock  the  folding-doors  were  suddenly  thrown  open ; 
Carnot,  Clarke,  and  Iloche  entered ;  their  countenances 
brightened,  and  the  coldness  and  reserve,  so  observable  at 
eight  o’clock,  had  vanished.  Clarke  advanced  quickly  to 


128 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


Tone,  and  taking  him  cordially  by  tbe  band,  said,  ‘  Citi¬ 
zen!  I  congratulate  you  ;  we  go  to  Ireland Tbe  others  did 
tbe  same ;  and  baying  fixed  tbe  time  to  meet  again,  tbe 
persons  engaged  in  this  remarkable  transaction,  separated.” 


CHAPTER  X. 

Tone  in  Hoche’s  Staff. — Accompanies  him  to  the  Army. — Armament  pre¬ 
paring  at  Brest. — A  Spy  and  a  Ruse. — Tone  enlists  Irish  Prisoners. 
— Emissary  sent  to  Dublin. — The  Troops  embark. — The  Expedition 
sails. — Reaches  Bantry  Bay. — Driven  off  the  Coast  by  a  Gale  of 
Wind. 

From  this  time  the  most  intimate  friendship  sprang  up 
between  Hoche  and  Tone.  They  were  of  abont  the  same 
age;  both  brave  and  ambitions  of  glory,  and  both  now 
bent  on  the  accomplishment  of  the  same  object.  The 
Directory  immediately  gave  Tone  a  commission  in  the 
French  army.  He  was  to  serve  in  the  infantry  with  the 
rank  of  chef  de  brigade,  which  answers  to  that  of  colonel, 
and  receives  the  same  pay.  Clarke  embraced  him  on  giv¬ 
ing  him  the  brevet,  and  saluted  him  as  a  brother  officer. 
Tone  says,  “  My  heart  was  so  full  I  could  hardly  reply.” 
He  was  soon  after  made  adjutant  to  Hoche,  and  remained 
in  his  staff  until  his  death. 

Hoche  entered  with  his  characteristic  ardor  into  the 
projected  Irish  invasion.  Meeting  Tone  one  day  in  the 
street  he  took  him  in  his  carriage  to  introduce  him  to  Gen¬ 
eral  Cherin,  with  whom  he  was  to  travel  when  he  set  off 
for  the  army.  “  On  the  way  I  told  Hoche  that  I  hoped 
the  glory  was  reserved  for  him  to  amputate  the  right  hand 


130 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


of  England  forever;  and  I  mentioned  tire  immense  re¬ 
sources  in  all  respects,  especially  in  men  and  provisions, 
•which  Ireland  furnished  to  that  country,  and  of  which  I 
trusted  we  were  now  on  the  eve  of  depriving  her.  Hoche 
observed,  that  his  only  anxiety  was  about  finding  subsist¬ 
ence  for  the  troops.  I  replied  that  as  to  that  I  hoped 
there  would  be  no  difficulty ;  that  it  was  Ireland  which 
victualed  the  navy,  the  West  Indies,  and  the  foreign  gar¬ 
risons  of  England  ;  and  I  reminded  him  of  what  I  had  be¬ 
fore  told  him,  that  in  the  late  scarcity,  so  far  from  diffi¬ 
culties  at  home,  she  exported  vast  quantities  of  corn  to 
that  country.  I  went  on  to  say,  that  my  difficulty  was  not 
how  to  subsist,  but  how  to  get  there,  for  that  I  dreaded 
that  eternal  fleet.  Hoche  laid  his  hand  on  my  arm  and 
said,  ‘  Ne  craignez  rien,  nous  y  irons ;  vous  pouvez  y  comp¬ 
ter ;  ne  craignez  rien'  I  answered,  that  being  so,  I  had 
not  a  doubt  of  our  success.  Hoche  then  asked  me,  ‘  Who 
were  the  Orange  boys  ?’  I  explained  it  to  him,  adding  that 
it  was  an  affair  of  no  consequence,  which  we  would  settle 
in  three  days  after  our  arrival.  £  Oh,  ’  said  he,  ‘  ce  n'est 
rien.'  I  then  told  him  I  hoped  he  would  take  care  to 
have  a  sufficiency  of  cannoniers  and  artillery,  of  which  we 
were  quite  unprovided.  ‘  You  may  depend  upon  it,’  said 
he,  1  that  I  will  bring  enough,  and  of  the  best,  particularly 
the  light  artillery.’  He  then  asked  me  if  we  had  many 
great  plains  in  Ireland  ?  I  said  not ;  that  in  general  the 
face  of  the  country  was  intersected  with  fences,  and  de¬ 
scribed  the  nature  of  an  Irish  ditch  and  hedge.  By  this 
time  we  arrived  at  Cherin’s,  who  was  indisposed  and  in 
bed.  I  was  introduced  by  Hoche,  and  I  remember  now 


TONE  IN  HOCHE’S  STAFF. 


131 


he  is  one  of  the  generals  with  whom  I  dined  at  Carnot’s. 
After  a  short  conversation  (in  which  the  time  was  fixed 
that  we  set  off),  I  took  my  leave,  Hoche  and  Cherin  desir¬ 
ing  me  to  call  on  them  in  the  mean  time,  without  the  cere¬ 
mony  of  sending  up  my  name.” 

Hoche  was  now  appointed  to  the  command  of  the  army 
of  the  West,  and  Tone  accompanied  him  to  Eennes.  He 
was  here  in  the  family  of  the  commander-in-chief,  and 
dined  daily  with  the  staff.  He  says,  “We  are  all  lodged 
in  the  palace  of  the  former  bishop  of  Eennes,  a  superb 
mansion,  but  not  much  the  better  for  the  Eevolution.” 
The  expedition  to  Ireland  had  been  decided  upon,  and 
preparations  were  going  forward  with  all  dispatch.  The 
attention  of  Europe  began  to  be  fixed  on  the  mighty  arma¬ 
ment  that  was  preparing  at  Brest.  Hoche  was  disciplining 
the  men,  collecting  cannoniers  and  munitions  of  war,  and 
pushing  forward  the  equipment  of  the  ships.  It  was  said 
that  he  had  selected  for  the  expedition  the  dlite  of  the 
army  of  the  Ocean,  which  consisted  of  117,000  men.  He 
had  the  satisfaction  of  having  under  him  a  corps  of  bronzed 
veterans,  who  had  fought  with  him  in  the  war  in  La 
Vendee,  who  were  “steeled  against  every  hardship,  having 
been  well  used  to  dispense  with  clothes,  shoes,  or  even 
bread.”  On  the  anniversary  of  the  fifth  year  of  the  Ee- 
public,  the  army  was  drawn  out  in  review  before  their 
chief.  It  was  a  brilliant  sight.  When  the  parade  was 
over,  Hoche  met  Tone,  and  asked  him  if  he  heard  the  can¬ 
nonade.  Tone  said  he  did.  “Ay,”  said  Hoche,  “you 
will  soon  hear  enough  of  that.”  “  The  sooner  the  better,” 
was  the  reply. 


132 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


While  at  Rennes  Tone  observed  with  some  -uneasi¬ 
ness  that  Hoclie  treated  him  with  reserve,  especially  in 
the  presence  of  others.  But  the  mystery  was  soon  ex¬ 
plained.  It  was  important  that  Tone  should  preserve  as 
far  as  possible  a  strict  incognito.  He  passed  in  the  army 
as  Mr.  Smith,  an  American.  If  the  general  were  to  dis¬ 
tinguish  him  by  particular  attention,  it  would  be  observed 
and  set  people  to  making  inquiries.  This  was  explained 
to  Tone  privately  by  a  confidential  friend  of  the  general, 
which  not  only  removed  his  uneasiness,  but  delighted  him 
by  the  evidence  which  it  afforded  of  Hoche’s  prudence  and 
considerate  regard  for  the  safety  of  his  adjutant.  The 
same  friend  assured  Tone  “that  both  the  Executive  Di¬ 
rectory  and  Hoche  were  perfectly  satisfied  as  to  who  and 
what  he  was,  through  a  channel  which  he  was  not  at  lib¬ 
erty  to  inform  him  of,  but  that  he  might  be  perfectly  easy 
on  the  score  of  his  credit.”*  In  private  the  manner  of  the 
general  was  as  cordial  as  ever.  Just  before  leaving  for 
Brest,  Tone  met  Hoche  alone  walking  in  the  gallery.  The 
general  immediately  came  up  to  him,  and  asked  if  he  had 
occasion  for  any  thing  before  his  departure,  desiring  him, 
if  he  was  in  want  of  any  thing,  to  apply  to  him  as  his 
friend,  without  any  reserve. 

During  this  stay  at  Rennes  Tone’s  constant  companion 
was  Col.  Shee,  a  native  of  Ireland,  and  uncle  of  General 
Clarke.  .  He  was  nearly  sixty  years  old,  and  had  served  as 
an  officer  of  cavalry  thirty -five  years.  He  had  been  secre- 

*  Perhaps  this  information  came  through  Arthur  O’Connor  and  Lord 
Edward  Fitzgerald,  whom  Hoche  had  just  met  on  the  frontiers  of  Switzer¬ 
land. 


ARMAMENT  PREPARING  AT  BREST.  133 


tary  to  the  Duke  of  Orleans  who  was  guillotined,  and  had 
many  tales  to  tell  of  the  times  before  and  since  the 
Devolution. 

The  scene  of  preparation  was  now  transferred  to  Brest. 
Tone’s  heart  bounded  at  the  sight  of  the  sea.  He  says, 
“  Every  day  I  Avalk  for  an  hour  alone  on  the  ramparts, 
and  look  down  on  the  fleet  Avhich  rides  below.  There  are 
about  fifty  sail  of  ships  of  Avar  of  all  sizes,  of  which  perhaps 
twenty  are  of  the  line.”  It  Avas  a  magnificent  sight.  His 
joy  and  pride  Avere  however  somewhat  damped  by  the 
thought  of  his  wife  and  children,  Avho  Avere  at  that  moment 
probably  on  their  voyage  to  France,  exposed  to  the  dan¬ 
gers  of  a  winter  passage.  Tone  was  a  most  fond  husband 
and  father.  Even  amid  the  terrible  “notes  of  prepara¬ 
tion,”  he  could  not  but  think  of  them  as  he  looked  off 
upon  the  sea.  He  Avrites  in  his  journal,  “I  lie  awake  reg¬ 
ularly  half  the  night,  listening  to  the  wind,  every  puff  of 
which  makes  me  shudder.”  In  fact  his  family  were  then 
on  the  ocean.  While  Tone  was  on  board  the  French  fleet 
on  his  way  to  Ireland,  his  family  in  an  American  ship  al¬ 
most  crossed  his  path  in  the  British  channel.  Happily 
they  landed  in  safety. 

The  only  thing  which  noAV  delayed  the  expedition  was 
the  Avant  of  seamen.  The  Directory  had  given  the  most 
imperative  orders  to  have  them  impressed  all  along  the 
coast.  But  the  marine  still  seemed  backward.  The  minis¬ 
ter  of  marine,  Truguet,  had  a  favorite  project  for  an  ex¬ 
pedition  to  India,  and  perhaps  on  this  account  felt  indiffer¬ 
ent  about  the  invasion  of  Ireland.  The  admiral  of  the 
fleet,  who  probably  dreaded  a  battle  at  sea,  with  the  Eng- 


134 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


lish,  started  all  sorts  of  objections.  But  Hoclie  was  not  to 
be  trifled  with..  He  bad  tbe  admiral  cashiered,  and  an¬ 
other  put  in  his  place  who  would  obey  orders.  Then  the 
work  went  on.  It  was  understood  that  the  English  were 
off  Ushant  with  sixteen  sail  of  the  line,  and  ten  frigates, 
and  it  seemed  altogether  improbable  that  the  French  fleet 
could  pass  the  channel  without  an  engagement.  Hoche 
had  formed  the  most  desperate  resolution  of  fighting  to  the 
last  if  they  met  the  English  fleet.  Tone  writes:  “The 
general  has  no  confidence  in  the  marine;  but  is  deter¬ 
mined,  if  we  fall  in  with  the  English  fleet,  that  fight  they 
shall ;  for  as  the  military  will  be  at  least  two  to  one  on 
board,  he  will  give  it  out  in  general  orders  that  the  first 
man,  officer  or  seaman,  of  whatever  grade  or  rank,  that 
offers  to  flinch,  shall  be  instantly  shot  on  the  quarter-deck. 
This  is  stout  of  Hoche.  I  had  rather  however  that  our 
valor  was  tried  on  terra  firma,  for  I  am  of  opinion  with 
the  Turks,  ‘  That  God  has  given  the  sea  to  the  infidels, 
and  the  land  to  the  true  believers.’ 

“  1  If  we  meet  with  a  privateer,  or  a  lofty  man-of-war, 

We  will  not  stop  to  wrangle,  to  chatter,  nor  to  jar.’ 

If  we  fall  in  with  the  English,  we  must  fight  them  at 
close  quarters,  and  crowd  our  tops,  poops  and  quarter-deck 
with  musketry.  It  is  our  only  chance,  but  against  su¬ 
perior  numbers  that  will  not  do.” 

While  in  Brest,  Tone  was  busily  engaged  writing  ad¬ 
dresses  to  the  Irish  people,  to  the  militia,  and  to  the  Irish 
seamen  serving  in  the  British  navy.*  He  prepared  a  gen- 

*  In  his  address  to  the  people  of  Ireland,  Tone  tells  them  to  approach 


RUSE  WITH  A  SPY. 


135 


eral  proclamation  for  tlie  French  t&  publish  on  landing. 
While  this  was  in  the  hands  of  the  printer,  a  gentleman 
with  a  foreign  accent  called  and  requested  to  see  a  copy. 
The  printer  refused.  The  stranger  then  offered  him  a  sum 
of  money,  finally  raising  it  to  five  hundred  louis. 

No  sooner  was  he  gone,  than  the  printer  hastened  to 
Hoche,  to  inform  him  of  the  circumstance.  Iloche  told 
him  to  let  the  spy  have  the  proclamation,  but  that  he  first 
wished  to  alter  a  few  words.  He  took  his  pen  and  crossed 
out  “  Ireland  and  Irish,”  and  inserted  Portugal  and  Por¬ 
tuguese  ;  and  of  this  a  few  copies  were  struck  off,  which 
were  handed  to  the  stranger.  The  ruse  was  successful. 
The  proclamation  was  immediately  transmitted  to  England, 
and  is  said  to  have  so  completely  deceived  Pitt  that  he 

that  gigantic  figure  by  which  they  have  been  so  long  kept  in  awe,  and  to  see 
if  their  fears  have  not  magnified  her  power.  He  thus  calculates  the  chances 
of  successful  rebellion  : — 

“  But  granting  she  is  formidable ;  so  are  we.  If  she  is  near  us,  we  are 
near  her.  Our  people  are  brave,  and  hardy  and  poor  ;  we  are  not  debauched 
by  luxury  and  sloth ;  we  are  used  to  toil,  and  fatigue,  and  scanty  living ;  our 
miseries,  for  which  we  have  to  thank  England,  have  well  prepared  us  to 
throw  off  her  yoke.  We  can  dispense  with  feather  beds,  with  roast  beef, 
and  strong  beer ;  war,  if  it  makes  any  change  in  the  diet  of  our  peasants, 
must  change  it  for  the  better ;  they  may  in  that  case  taste  meat  and  bread, 
delicacies  to  them,  and  which  a  great  majority  of  them  seldom  see  ;  we  can 
sleep  in  our  bogs,  where  our  enemies  will  rot,  and  subsist  on  our  mountains, 
where  they  will  starve.  We  fight  for  our  liberties;  they  fight  because  they 
are  ordered  to  do  so.  We  are  at  home;  they  are  in  an  enemy’s  country. 
Under  these  circumstances,  and  especially  with  a  just  and  righteous  cause, 
he  must  be  timid  indeed  who  could  doubt  of  success.  England,  with  Ireland 
at  her  back,  is  undoubtedly  formidable ;  England,  with  Ireland  neuter,  is 
still  respectable ;  but  England,  with  Ireland  in  arms  against  her,  I  do  not 
despair  of  seeing  humbled  in  the  dust.” 


136 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


directed  tlie  British  "squadrons  to  keep  particular  watch 
upon  Portugal;  and  when  he  afterward  heard  that  the 
French  fleet  was  off  the  coast  of  Ireland,  he  treated  the 
report  with  derision.*  It  was  probably  owing  to  this  cir¬ 
cumstance  that  the  expedition  went  and  returned  without 
meeting  the  English  fleet. 

As  there  was  great  want  of  men  for  the  ships,  by  order 
of  the  general,  Tone  went  among  the  prisoners  of  war,  and 
offered  their  liberty  to  as  many  as  would  serve  aboard  the 
French  fleet.  He  says,  “  Sixty  accepted  the  offer,  of 
whom  fifty  were  Irish.  I  made  them  drink  heartily 
before  they  left  the  prison ;  and  they  were  mustered  and 
went  aboard  the  same  evening.  I  never  saw  the  national 
character  stronger  marked  than  in  the  careless  gayety  of 
those  poor  fellows.  Half  naked  and  half  starved  as  I  found 
them,  the  moment  that  they  saw  the  wine  before  them,  all 
their  cares  were  forgotten.  The  Englishmen  balanced, 
and  several  of  them  asked  in  the  true  style  of  their 
country,  ‘  What  would  I  give  them  ?’  It  is  but  justice  to 
others  to  observe,  that  they  said  nothing  should  ever 
tempt  them  to  fight  against  their  king  and  country.  I  told 
them  they  were  perfectly  at  liberty  to  make  their  choice, 
as  I  put  no  constraint  on  any  man.  In  the  event,  of  about 
one  hundred  English,  ten  men  and  boys  offered  them¬ 
selves  ;  and  of  about  sixty  Irish,  fifty ;  not  one  Scotch¬ 
man,  though  there  were  several  in  the  prison.  When  I 
called  for  the  wine,  my  English  recruits  begged  for 
something  to  eat  at  the  same  time,  which  I  ordered  for 
*  Tone’s  Life,  yol.  ii.  p.  218.  Curran’s  Life,  p.  218. 


AN  EMISSARY  SENT  TO  IRELAND. 


137 


them.  Poor  Pat  never  thought  of  eating ;  but  when  his 
head  was  a  little  warm  with  the  wine,  he  was  very  urgent 
to  be  permitted  to  go  among  the  Englishmen,  and  flog 
those  who  refused  to  enter ;  which  of  course  I  prevented, 
though  with  some  little  difficulty.  ‘Arrah,  blood  and 
’ounds,  captain  dear,  won’t  you  let  me  have  one  knock  at 
the  blackguards?’  I  thought  myself  on  Ormond  quay 
once  more.  Oh,  if  we  once  arrive  safe  on  the  other  side, 
what  soldiers  we  will  make  of  our  poor  fellows !  They 
all  said  they  hoped  I  was  going  with  them  wherever  it 
was.  I  answered,  that  I  did  not  desire  one  man  to  go 
where  I  was  not  ready  to  show  the  way ;  and  they  replied 
with  three  cheers.  It  is  to  be  observed  that  I  never  men¬ 
tioned  the  object  of  the  expedition ;  they  entered  the 
service  merely  from  the  adventurous  spirit  of  the  nation, 
and  their  hatred  of  the  English,  without  any  idea  that 
they  had  a  chance  of  seeing  Ireland  again.” 

Meanwhile  news  arrived  from  Ireland  which  excited  to 
the  highest  pitch  the  hopes  of  the  French.  At  one  time, 
a  rumor  reached  Brest  that  the  Revolution  was  already 
effected,  that  the  people  had  risen  and  overpowered  the 
government.  Hoche  was  in  rapture.  As  he  met  Tone,  he 
embraced  him,  kissing  him  on  both  cheeks,  after  the 
manner  of  the  French,  and  wishing  him  joy  of  the  event. 
The  report  however  proved  premature.  A  more  authentic 
statement  was  derived  from  an  American  who  had  just 
been  in  Ireland.  He  said  that  every  body  was  expecting  the 
French ;  that  the  gentry  were  making  preparations  to 
receive  them ;  that  every  magistrate  was  raising  twenty 


138 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


men  to  preserve  the  peace  in  place  of  the  militia,  should 
these  last  be  ordered  to  the  coast ;  but  that  it  was  univer¬ 
sally  supposed  that  they  would  join  the  French  immedi¬ 
ately,  and  that  a  great  majority  of  them  were  even  sworn 
to  do  so.  He  said  that  every  day  persons  were  arrested. 
The  sum  of  all  was,  that  Ireland  was  in  a  state  of  excite¬ 
ment,  bordering  on  insurrection,  and  that  nothing  but 
the  French  were  needed  to  settle  the  affair  at  a  blow. 

Hoche  thought  it  important  at  this  moment  to  send 
an  agent  to  Ireland.  There  was  an  American  vessel  lying 
in  the  harbor,  which  would  sail  at  a  minute’s  warning, 
and  also  bring  back  the  person  who  should  go.  Hoche 
wished  intelligence  of  the  state  of  the  country  up  to  the 
last  moment.  Tone  named  his  aid-de-camp  McSheehy. 
It  was  instantly  decided  upon.  The  next  day  Tone 
brought  him  to  his  lodgings,  and  made  him  change  his 
dress  from  head  to  foot,  equipping  him  with  shirts,  boots, 
stockings,  waistcoats,  coat,  and  cloak,  all  either  Irish, 
or  made  after  the  Irish  fashion.  He  then  gave  him  the 
address  of  two  persons  in  Dublin,  Bond  and  McCormick, 
whom  he  wished  him  to  see,  and  told  him  of  certain  cir¬ 
cumstances,  known  only  to  themselves,  by  which  he  could 
satisfy  them  that  he  had  seen  Tone.  Hoche  directed  him 
to  go  to  these  persons,  and  learn  from  them  as  much  as  he 
could  of  the  state  of  the  country  at  that  moment,  the 
temper  of  the  people,  the  number  and  disposition  of  the 
troops,  whether  the  French  were  expected  or  desired,  and 
if  so,  in  what  part  particularly.  He  then  gave  McSheehy 
twenty  louis,  and  he  sailed  that  night.  Tone  had  a 
further  object.  Many  of  his  friends  in  Ireland  were  in 


THE  TROOPS  EMBARK. 


139 


prison,  and  in  danger  of  being  executed  for  treason.  He 
charged  McSheehy  to  tell  Bond  and  McCormick  to  have 
the  prisoners  profit  by  every  possible  delay,  which  the 
forms  of  law  could  give  to  postpone  their  trial,  as  he  had 
the  strongest  hopes  that  in  a  short  time  the  French  would 
be  there  to  rescue  them.  He  then  walked  with  him  down 
to  the  quay,  where  he  saw  him  join  the  captain,  who  was 
in  waiting.  It  was  eight  o’clock,  and  a  fine  moonlight 
night.  In  a  little  while  the  vessel  was  standing  out  of  the 
harbor.  The  emissary  reached  Dublin,  accomplished  his 
mission,  and  returned  in  safety.  This  officer  was  after¬ 
ward  killed  in  the  battle  of  Eylau.  Tone  had  another 
adjutant  in  this  expedition,  Rapatelle,  an  officer  of  the 
staff,  who  in  1813  accompanied  Moreau  to  the  camp  of  the 
allies.  Moreau  died  in  his  arms. 

In  truth  the  moment  of  action  was  approaching.  On 
the  second  of  December  Tone  received  orders  to  embark 
on  board  the  Indomptable  of  eighty  guns.  The  captain, 
Bedout,  was  a  Canadian.  He  had  been  used  to  desperate 
battle  on  the  ocean.  Tone  had  requested  to  serve  with 
the  grenadiers  in  the  advanced  guard,  as  being  the  post  of 
danger  and  of  honor,  but  the  general,  while  in  the  hand¬ 
somest  manner  he  acknowledged  the  gallantry  of  the  offer, 
declared  that  his  arrangements  required  him  to  be  imme¬ 
diately  about  his  person.  Once  on  board,  Tone  writes, 
“We  are  all  in  high  spirits,  and  the  troops  are  as  gay  as  if 
they  were  going  to  a  ball.”  With  the  true  spirit  of 
Frenchmen  they  danced  every  evening  on  the  quarter¬ 
deck.  On  the  eve  of  departure  they  received  a  visit  from 


140 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


another  ship : — “  General  Watrin  paid  ns  a  visit  this  eve¬ 
ning  with  the  band  of  his  regiment,  and  I  went  down  into 
the  great  cabin  where  the  officers  met,  and  where  the 
music  was  playing.  I  was  delighted  with  the  effect  it 
seemed  to  have  on  them.  The  cabin  was  ceiled  with  the 
firelocks  intended  for  the  expedition,  the  candlesticks  were 
bayonets  stuck  in  the  table,  the  officers  were  in  their 
jackets;  some  playing  cards,  others  singing  to  the  music; 
others  conversing,  and  all  in  the  highest  spirits — once 
again  I  was  delighted  with  the  scene.  At  length  Watrin 
and  his  band  went  off,  and  as  it  was  a  beautiful  moonlight 
night,  the  effect  of  the  music  on  the  water,  diminishing  as 
they  receded  from  our  vessel,  was  delicious.” 

The  next  morning  presented  a  more  cheering  sight — • 
the  signal  flying  to  get  under  weigh,  and  the  ships  heaving 
up  their  anchors.  It  was  the  16th  of  December  that  the 
fleet  put  to  sea.  It  consisted  of  17  sail  of  the  line,  13 
frigates,  with  a  number  of  corvettes  and  transports,  making 
in  all  43  sail,  and  carrying  an  army  of  fifteen  thousand 
men,  commanded  by  the  ablest  general  of  France,  next  to 
Napoleon,  and  provided  with  an  immense  park  of  artillery, 
and  all  the  munitions  of  war.  In  passing  out  of  the  har¬ 
bor,  they  had  to  go  through  a  narrow  and  dangerous  strait 
in  the  night.  One  line  of  battle  ship  was  lost  on  the  rocks, 
and  the  others  were  in  imminent  peril.  Captain  Bedout 
said  that  he  had  rather  stand  three  such  engagements  as 
that  in  which  he  was  taken,  than  pass  again  through  the 
Raz  at  night.  But  the  morning  came,  and  they  were  clear 
of  shore,  and  bearing  away  into  the  broad  Atlantic.  Un¬ 
locked  from  land,  the  fleet  now  spread  its  wings.  Trans- 


THEY  REACH  THE  IRISH  COAST. 


141 


ports,  frigates,  and  tliree-deckers,  far  and  near,  a  gallant 
sight,  went  careering  on  the  sea.  But  the  fleet  was  scat¬ 
tered.  Not  more  than  half  were  together.  Another  morn¬ 
ing  they  descried  a  sail  on  the  horizon.  A  sail !  a  sail ! 
The  signal  of  a  fleet  in  the  offing  passed  from  ship  to  ship. 
The  officers  gathered  on  deck.  Spy-glasses  were  turned 
to  the  horizon.  What  could  they  be  ?  French  or  Eng¬ 
lish  ?  Tone  writes,  “  if  this  fleet  prove  to  be  our  com¬ 
rades,  it  will  be  famous  news,  if  it  be  the  English  let  them 
come,  we  will  do  our  best,  and  I  think  the  Indomptable 
will  not  be  the  worst  fought  ship  in  the  squadron.”  Hap¬ 
pily,  as  they  drew  near,  the  French  flag  was  descried  float¬ 
ing  from  the  distant  masts.  The  fleet  was  now  together, 
thirty-five  sail.  But  seven  or  eight  ships  were  still  mis¬ 
sing.  By  a  strange  arrangement  both  the  commander-in- 
chief  and  the  admiral  of  the  fleet  had  been  embarked  in  a 
frigate,  the  Fraternity,  and  this  ship  was  gone.  The  ab¬ 
sence  of  Hoche  was  more  than  the  loss  of  half  the  fleet. 
The  expedition  proceeded  without  its  general.  It  soon 
made  Cape  Clear,  and  proceeded  up  the  Channel.  The 
outline  of  the  coast  became  distinctly  visible.  Tone  first 
observed  snow  on  the  mountains — then  old  castles  on  the 
shore.  The  weather  was  delicious,  the  wind  fair,  and  they 
were  drawing  up  to  the  coast  under  easy  sail.  The  In¬ 
domptable  approached  so  near  that  Tone  says  he  could  toss 
a  biscuit  on  shore.  A  landing  might  have  been  effected 
in  a  few  hours.  But  the  command  had  devolved  upon 
Grouchy.  This  irresolute  general  hesitated  to  land  in  the 
absence  of  Hoche,  and  with  but  a  part  of  the  army.  Tone 
writes,  “  All  rests  now  upon  Grouchy,  and  I  hope  he  may 


142 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


turn  out  well.  He  lias  a  glorious  game  in  His  hands,  if  lie 
lias  spirit  and  talent  to  play  it.  If  lie  succeeds,  it  will  im¬ 
mortalize  liim.”  The  want  of  spirit  and  decision  in  this 
officer,  which  afterward  lost  the  battle  of  W aterloo,  caused 
the  failure  of  the  expedition.  “Twice,”  says  Shiel,  “had 
this  man  the  destinies  of  nations  in  his  hand,  and  twice  he 
abused  his  trust.” 

Grouchy  afterward  felt  bitterly  at  the  thought  of  the 
great  opportunity  which  had  escaped  him.  He  was  all 
eagerness  for  a  second  expedition.  He  said  to  Tone,  that 
“he  had  shed  tears  of  rage  and  vexation  fifty  times  since, 
at  the  recollection  of  the  opportunity  of  which  he  had  been 
deprived  ;  and  there  was  one  thing  which  he  would  never 
pardon  himself — that  he  did  not  seize  Bouvet*  by  the 
collar,  and  throw  him  overboard,  the  moment  he  attempted 
to  raise  a  difficulty  as  to  the  landing.” 

The  instructions  to  the  fleet  were,  in  case  of  separation, 
that  the  ships  which  arrived  first  should  cruise  off  the 
shore,  till  the  other  ships  joined  them.  Accordingly, 
when  close  in  shore,  they  tacked  out  again,  and  thus  stood 
off  and  on.  They  were  instructed  to  land  in  Bantry  Bay. 
They  were  now  off  the  mouth,  and  began  to  move  leisurely 
up  the  bay.  Tone  was  raging  with  impatience.  There 
lay  that  mighty  fleet,  a  long  line  of  dark  hulls  resting  on 
the  green  water,  tossing  up  their  huge  bows  into  the  air, 
like  so  many  black  war-horses  impatient  for  the  battle. 
Three  or  four  days  passed,  when  a  council  of  war  was 
called,  and  it  was  proposed  to  land  with  the  portion  of  the 
army  then  in  the  bay.  “  I  must  do  Grouchy  the  justice,” 
*  Bouvet  was  the  Rear  Admiral  who  now  commanded  the  fleet. 


DRIVEN  OFF  BY  A  GALE  OF  WIND. 


143 


says  Tone,  “  to  say,  that  the  moment  we  gave  our  opinion 
in  favor  of  proceeding,  he  took  his  part  like  a  man  of 
spirit ;  he  instantly  set  about  preparing  the  order  of 
battle.”  Men  and  guns  were  got  ready,  and  the  disem¬ 
barkation  was  to  take  place  the  next  morning.  But  at 
two  o’clock  in  the  night,  Tone  was  awakened  by  the  wind. 
“  I  rose  immediately,  and  walked  for  an  hour  in  the  gal¬ 
lery,  devoured  by  the  most  gloomy  reflections.  The  wind 
continues  right  ahead,  so  that  it  is  absolutely  impossible  to 
work  up  to  the  landing-place.”  The  wind  increased  to  a 
gale.  The  sea  ran  high.  A  landing  was  impossible.  The 
gale  became  terrific.  All  day  and  all  night  it  blew  right 
off  shore,  and  finally  drove  them  to  sea.  The  fleet  was 
now  so  scattered,  as  to  render  a  landing  in  force  impracti¬ 
cable,  and  the  dispersed  ships  made  their  way  back  to 
France. 

In  reading  the  account  of  this  expedition,  it  seems  as 
if  Ireland  had  been  saved  to  England  by  a  miracle.  Had 
the  fifteen  thousand  men  on  board  landed,  with  Hoche  at 
their  head,  the  island  would  have  been  inevitably  lost. 
There  was  no  force  in  the  south  of  Ireland  that  could  have 
resisted  for  a  moment.  A  large  part  of  the  population 
were  ready  to  join  an  invading  army,  and  Hoche  would 
have  marched  in  triumph  to  Dublin.  The  young  com¬ 
mander  in  one  campaign  would  have  conquered  a  king¬ 
dom.  Such  was  the  opinion  of  the  highest  military  au¬ 
thority  of  the  age.  Said  Bonaparte,  “  Hoche  was  one  of 
the  first  generals  that  ever  France  produced.  He  was 
brave,  intelligent,  abounding  in  talent,  decisive  and  pene¬ 
trating.  If  he  had  landed  in  Ireland,  he  would  have  sue- 


144 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


ceedecl .  He  was  accustomed  to  civil  war,  had  pacified  La 
Vendee,  and  was  well  adapted  for  Ireland.  He  had  a  fine, 
handsome  figure,  a  good  address,  and  was  prepossessing 
and  intriguing.”* 

As  it  was,  this  expedition  produced  a  powerful  sensa¬ 
tion  throughout  Great  Britain.  The  people  of  England 
had  long  felt  secure  in  their  insular  situation,  and  guarded 
by  their  invincible  fleets.  “  That  confidence  in  the  invio¬ 
lability  of  their  shores  was  now  startled  by  the  incontest¬ 
able  fact,  that  with  two  British  fleets  in  the  channel,  and 
an  admiral  stationed  at  Cork,  the  coasts  of  Ireland  had 
been  a  whole  fortnight  at  the  mercy  of  the  enemy.”f 
What  rendered  it  more  remarkable,  was  that  neither  in 
going  nor  returning  did  the  French  fleet  meet  a  single 
English  ship.  It  is  not  too  much  to  say,  that  it  was  the 
narrowest  escape  which  any  part  of  the  United  Kingdom 
has  had  since  the  Spanish  Armada. 

*  A  Voice  from  St.  Helena. 

f  Moore’s  Life  of  Fitzgerald,  yol.  i.  p.  207. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

Tone  goes  with  Hoche  to  the  Rhine. — Dutch  Fleet  in  the  Texel. — Mu¬ 
tiny  at  the  Nore. — Expedition  from  Holland. — Death  of  Hoche. — 
Formation  of  the  Army  of  England. — Napoleon  sails  for  Egypt. 

The  failure  of  this  expedition  did  not  break  the  spirit 
of  Tone.  At  first  the  reaction  of  his  mind  was  great.  He 
says,  “I  feel  this  moment  like  a  man  who  is  just  awakened 
from  a  long,  terrible  dream.”*  But  it  has  been  said  that 
“none  can  feel  themselves  equal  to  the  execution  of  a 
2geat  design  who  have  not  once  witnessed  with  firmness 
md  equanimity  its  failure.”  The  Directory  were  not  at 
ill  disheartened  at  the  result.  Indeed  the  safety  with 
vhich  their  fleet  had  traversed  the  seas  afforded  them  a 
lew  evidence  of  the  practicability  of  an  invasion.  Hoche 
old  Tone  to  assure  his  friends  that  both  the  French 
government  and  himself,  individually,  were  bent  as  much 
s  ever  on  the  emancipation  of  Ireland  ;  that  preparations 
rere  making  for  a  second  attempt,  which  would  be  con- 
luded  as  speedily  as  the  urgency  of  affairs  would  admit ; 

*  “  I  see  by  an  article  in  the  English  papers,  that  they  were  in  hopes  to 
itch  the  vessel  on  board  of  which  I  was  embarked,  in  which  case  they  were 
ind  enough  to  promise  that  I  should  be  properly  taken  care  of.” — Tone’s 
oumal,  Jan.  1797. 


G 


146 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


that  it  was  a  business  which  the  Republic  would  nevei 
give  up ;  and  that  if  three  expeditions  failed,  they  would 
try  a  fourth,  and  ever  until  they  succeeded.  For  the 
present,  however,  it  was  necessary  that  the  expeditior 
should  be  abandoned.  The  Republic  had  need  of  Hock 
elsewhere.  He  was  immediately  appointed  to  the  com 
mand  of  the  army  of  Sambre  and  Meuse.  He  invitee 
Tone  to  accompany  him,  as  adjutant-general,  and  made 
him  a  present  of  a  beautiful  horse.  Tone  accordingly  lef 
Paris  for  the  Rhine.  Here  he  was  in  an  excellent  militarj 
school,  under  one  of  the  best  masters  of  war  in  Europe 
Hoche  was  now  in  a  position  to  display  his  great  military 
genius,  no  longer  conducting  a  civil  war,  but  at  the  heat 
of  an  army  of  70,000  men,  matched  with  an  equal  foe 
The  hostile  armies  were  separated  only  by  a  river.  Toni 
was  stationed  at  Bonn,  on  the  banks  of  the  “  castlee 
Rhine,”  opposite  the  famous  Seven  Mountains.  “  Fron 
the  windows  of  the  dining-room  I  saw  the  advanced  post 
of  the  enemy  on  the  other  side  of  the  Rhine.” 

It  was  not  the  least  curious  circumstance  in  the  histor 
of  this  family,  who  seemed  born  to  adventure,  that,  on  tli 
voyage  from  America,  an  attachment  had  sprung  u 
between  a  Swiss  merchant  and  Tone’s  sister.  On  thei 
arrival  in  Europe  they  were  married,  and  were  now  livin 
at  Hamburg.  Tone  says,  “  They  will,  I  believe,  settl 
in  Hamburg;  so  there  is  one  more  of  our  family  dis 
persed.  I  am  sure  if  there  were  five  quarters  of  the  globe 
there  would  be  one  of  us  perched  on  the  fifth.”  Tone’ 
family,  who  had  landed  at  the  mouth  of  the  Elbe,  wer 
with  them.  As  soon  as  he  could  be  spared  from  th 


A  SECOND  EXPEDITION  PROJECTED.  147 


army  he  flew  to  meet  them.  Scarcely  had  he  left  the 
camp  when  the  sound  of  a  cannonade  startled  the  echoes 
of  the  hills.  That  very  day  Hoche  gained  the  memorable 
battle  of  Neuwied.  He  crossed  the  Rhine  in  face  of  the 
Austrian  army,  and  was  advancing  on  a  career  of  victory 
which  promised  to  be  as  brilliant  as  that  of  Napoleon  in 
Lombardy,  when  he  was  stopped  by  news  that  the  pre¬ 
liminaries  of  peace  had  been  signed. 

No  sooner  was  the  war  ended  on  the  Rhine  than  Hoche 
again  turned  his  thoughts  to  Ireland.  Scarcely  had  Tone 
returned  to  the  army  before  the  subject  was  reopened. 
He  found  also  in  the  camp,  to  his  great  joy,  an  old  friend 
by  the  name  of  Lewines,  an  attorney  of  Dublin,  who  had 
come  from  Ireland  to  press  the  measure  of  a  new  invasion. 
Lewines  stated  that  the  organization  of  the  people  was 
complete;  that  there  were  a  hundred  thousand  United 
Irishmen  in  the  north  alone ;  and  that  they  had  a  large 
quantity  of  arms,  and  at  least  eight  pieces  of  cannon,  con¬ 
cealed.  Every  thing  was  ready,  and  nothing  was  wanting 
out  a  foreign  force  to  land  in  the  country,  and  set  the  ball 
n  motion.  His  instructions  were  to  apply  to  France, 
Lolland,  and  Spain.  Hoche  gave  them  the  strongest 
issurances  that  the  business  should  be  taken  up  on  a  grand 
scale.  The  news  that  Austria  was  suing  for  peace  had 
ndeed  put  England  in  the  mood  for  negotiation.  Lord 
lalmcsbury  was  already  at  Lisle.  But  Hoche  told  them 
sot  to  be  discouraged  by  the  arrival  of  a  British  nego- 
iator,  for  that  the  Directory  were  determined  to  make  no 
teace  but  on  conditions  which  would  put  it  out  of  the 


148 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


power  of  England  longer  to  arrogate  to  lierself  the  com 
merce  of  the  world,  and  dictate  her  laws  to  all  the  marl 
time  powers.  He  communicated  to  them  another  piece  o] 
news  not  less  exciting,  that  an  expedition  for  Ireland  ha( 
already  been  prepared  in  Holland.  The  Hutch  governor 
General  Daendels,  and  Admiral  Dewinter  had  long  felt , 
desire  to  perform  some  achievement,  which  should  rescu 
Holland  from  that  State  of  oblivion  into  which  she  hat 
fallen  in  Europe.  At  first  the  Dutch  government  ha< 
proposed  to  invade  England,  to  effect  a  diversion  in  favo 
of  the  French,  who,  they  hoped,  would  have  been  ii 
Ireland.  How,  circumstances  being  changed,  they  ha< 
resolved  to  go  directly  to  Ireland.  For  this  purpose,  the; 
had  by  the  greatest  exertions  got  together  at  the  Texe 
sixteen  sail  of  the  line,  and  ten  frigates,  all  ready  for  set 
with  fifteen  thousand  troops  and  eighty  pieces  of  artillery 
and  pay  for  the  whole  for  three  months.  For  a  moment 
difficulty  arose,  which  was  only  removed  by  the  magnt 
nimity  of  Hoche.  The  French  minister  of  Marine  ha 
demanded  that  five  thousand  French  troops  should  b 
embarked  in  place  of  five  thousand  Dutch.  The  matte 
was  one  of  much  delicacy.  On  the  one  hand,  it  was  high! 
important  to  have  Hoche  and  his  grenadiers ;  but  on  th 
other,  it  was  natural  and  it  was  right  that  the  Dutc  r 
government,  after  such  exertions,  should  wish  to  have  a 
the  glory  of  the  expedition.  Hoche  saw  their  embarras;  tf 
ment.  He  instantly  came  forward,  upon  his  own  respor 
sibility,  and  withdrew  the  demand  of  the  French  ministe: 
The  generosity  of  Hoche  in  this  act  did  him  the  greates 
honor.  “  When  it  is  considered,”  says  Tone,  “  that  Hocb  : 


DUTCH  FLEET  IN  THE  TEXEL. 


149 


has  a  devouring  passion  for  fame ;  that  his  great  object,  on 
which  he  has  endeavored  to  establish  his  reputation,  is  the 
destruction  of  the  power  of  England ;  that  he  has  for  two 
pears,  in  a  great  degree,  devoted  himself  to  our  business, 
ind  made  the  greatest  exertions,  including  our  memorable 
3xpedition,  to  emancipate  us ;  that  he  sees  at  last  the 
ousiness  likely  to  be  accomplished  by  another,  and  of 
course,  all  the  glory  ravished  from  him,— I  confess  his 
renouncing  the  situation  which  he  might  command  is  an 
effort  of  very  great  virtue.  It  is  true  he  is  doing  exactly 
vhat  an  honest  man  and  a  good  citizen  ought  to  do,  pre¬ 
ferring  the  interests  of  his  country  to  his  own  private 
dews  ;  that,  however,  does  not  prevent  my  regarding  his 
conduct  with  great  admiration,  and  I  shall  never  forget  it. 

“  It  was  easy  to  see  the  most  lively  satisfaction  on  all 
heir  faces,  at  this  declaration  of  General  Hoche.  General 
laendels  especially  was  beyond  measure  delighted.  They 
old  us  then  they  hoped  all  would  be  ready  in  a  fortnight, 
.key  hoped  that  either  Lewines  or  I  would  be  of  the 
xpedition,  as  our  presence  -with  the  general  would  be  in- 
ispensable.  To  which  Hoche  replied  that  I  was  ready  to 
o,  and  he  made  the  offer  on  my  part  in  a  manner 
eculiarly  agreeable  to  my  feelings.”  He  afterward  told 
'one  privately,  that  the  Dutch  army  was  much  better 
lan  it  had  been  at  the  commencement  of  the  war,  and 
specially  that  Daendels  was  an  excellent  officer,  and  as 
rave  as  Ctesar. 

The  following  conversation  discloses  another  rivalship 
hich  at  that  time  existed  in  the  French  army.  As 
loche  and  Tone  were  about  to  part,  “  I  took  occasion,” 


150  THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 

- : - : - 

says  tlie  latter,  “to  speak  on  a  subject  which  had  weighed 

very  much  upon  my  mind,  I  mean  the  degree  of  influence 
which  the  French  might  be  disposed  to  arrogate  to  them¬ 
selves  in  Ireland,  and  which  I  had  great  reason  to  fear 
would  be  greater  than  we  might  choose  to  allow  them.  In 
the  Gazette  of  that  day  there  was  a  proclamation  of  Bona¬ 
parte,  addressed  to  the  government  of  Genoa,  which  I 
thought  most  grossly  improper  and  indecent,  as  touching 
on  the  indispensable  rights  of  the  people.  I  read  the  most 
obnoxious  passages  to  Hoche,  and  observed,  that  if  Bona¬ 
parte  commanded  in  Ireland,  and  were  to  publish  there  so 
indiscreet  a  proclamation,  it  would  have  a  most  ruinous 
effect ;  that  in  Italy  such  dictation  might  pass,  but  never 
in  Ireland,  where  we  understood  our  rights  too  well  to 
submit  to  it.  Hoche  answered  me,  “I  understand  you, 
but  you  may  be  at  ease  in  that  respect ;  Bonaparte  has 
been  my  scholar,  but  he  shall  never  be  my  master.”  He 
then  lanched  out  into  a  very  severe  critique  on  Bonaparte’s 
conduct,  which  certainly  has  latterly  been  terribly  indis¬ 
creet,  to  say  no  worse  of  it,  and  observed,  that  as  to  his 
victories,  it  was  easy  to  gain  victories  with  such  troops  as 
he  commanded,  especially  when  the  general  made  no  diffi¬ 
culty  to  sacrifice  the  lives  of  his  soldiers,  and  that  these 
victories  had  cost  the  Bepublic  200,000  men.  A  great 
deal  of  what  Hoche  said  was  true,  but  I  could  see  at  the 
bottom  of  it  a  very  great  jealousy  of  Bonaparte.” 

In  July,  1797,  we  find  Tone  on  board  a  second  mighty 
armament  for  the  invasion  of  Ireland.  A  few  sentences 
gleaned  from  his  journal  will  show  the  prospects  of  the 
new  expedition. 


FLEET  IN  THE  TEXEL. 


151 


“July  8.  Arrived  early  in  tlie  morning  at  the  Texel, 
and  went  immediately  on  board  the  Admiral’s  ship,  the 
Vryheid,  of  74  guns,  a  superb  vessel.  Found  General 
Daendel  aboard,  who  presented  me  to  Admiral  Dewinter, 
who  commands  the  expedition.  I  am  exceedingly  pleased 
with  both ;  there  is  a  frankness  and  candor  in  their  man¬ 
ners  which  is  highly  interesting. 

“  July  10.  I  have  been  boating  about  the  fleet,  and 
aboard  several  of  the  vessels :  they  are  in  very  fine  condi¬ 
tion,  incomparably  better  than  the  fleet  at  Brest,  and  I 
learn  from  all  hands  that  the  best  possible  spirit  reigns  in 
both  soldiers  and  sailors.  Admiral  Duncan,  who  com¬ 
mands  the  English  fleet  off  the  Texel,  sent  in  yesterday  an 
officer  with  a  flag  of  truce,  apparently  with  a  letter,  but  in 
fact  to  reeonnoiter  our  force.  Dewinter  was  even  with 
him :  for  he  detained  his  messenger,  and  sent  back  the  an¬ 
swer  by  an  officer  of  his  own,  with  instructions  to  bring 
back  an  exact  account  of  the  force  of  the  enemy. 

“July  11.  Our  flag  of  truce  is  returned,  and  the  Eng¬ 
lish  officer  released.  Duncan’s  fleet  is  of  eleven  sail  of  the 
line,  of  which  three  are  three-deckers. 

“July  14.  Several  boats  full  of  troops  have  passed  us 
to-day,  going  on  board  the  different  vessels ;  the  men  are 
in  the  highest  spirits,  singing  national  songs,  and  cheering 
the  general  as  they  pass  ;  it  is  a  noble  sight,  and  I  found  it 
inexpressibly  affecting.  Daendel  assures  me  that  in  the 
best  days  of  the  French  Devolution  he  never  witnessed 
greater  enthusiasm  than  reigns  at  present  in  the  army.” 

Never  perhaps  was  the  English  Empire  in  greater  dan¬ 
ger  than  at  this  moment.  “  Pitt,”  says  Thiers,  “  was  in  the 


152 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


greatest  consternation.”  Austria,  liis  faithful  continental 
ally,  was  about  to  withdraw  from  the  contest,  while 
to  France  and  Holland,  Spain  was  to  be  added,  to  the 
number  of  her  enemies.  Besides  the  formidable  armament 
in  the  Texel,  similar  expeditions  were  preparing  at  Brest 
and  at  Cadiz.  A  gale  off  shore  might  drive  the  block¬ 
ading  squadrons  a  hundred  leagues  to  sea,  and  before  they 
could  return,  a  Butch,  a  French,  and  a  Spanish  squadron 
might  bear  away  for  Ireland.  Besides,  an  event  had  just 
occurred  which  threatened  the  naval  ascendency  of  Eng¬ 
land  more  than  the  hostile  squadrons.  It  was  the  great 
mutiny  on  board  the  English  fleets  at  Portsmouth  and  the 
Hore.  The  right  arm  of  England  was  paralyzed  by  this 
stroke.  For  weeks  those  fleets  were  in  a  state  of  rebellion. 
The  red  flag  was  hoisted  at  the  mast-head,  and  it  was  with 
the  greatest  difficulty  that  the  English  government  could 
keep  any  ships  in  the  channel.  Had  the  French  squadron 
been  ready  at  the  moment,  it  would  have  found  the  ocean 
clear.  It  was  even  probable,  had  a  revolution  been 
effected  in  Ireland,  that  the  Irish  sailors  in  the  British 
navy,  would,  as  they  had  threatened,  steer  many  of  the 
English  ships  of  war  into  the  Irish  ports. 

The  English  fleet  lying  at  the  Hore  was  still  in  a  state 
of  mutiny.  How  was  the  time  for  invasion.  Great  anxi¬ 
ety  was  felt  to  seize  the  favorable  moment,  and  to  sail  for 
Ireland  with  the  first  fair  wind.  The  English  still  mus¬ 
tered  a  formidable  force  of  ships  of  the  line  off  the  Texel, 
but  in  the  high  discipline  of  the  Dutch  navy,  they  did  not 
fear  an  engagement.  Dewinter  felt  the  spirit  of  Yan 


EXPEDITION  FROM  HOLLAND. 


153 


fromp  beat  in  bis  bosom,  and  like  tbat  famous  Dutch 
idmiral,  longed  to  sweep  the  seas  with  his  broom. 

“July  16.  The  admiral  summoned  this  morning  all 
he  admirals  and  captains  of  the  fleet,  and  gave  them  their 
ast  instructions,  which  were,  that  the  frigates  of  forty-four 
mns  should  fall  into  the  line ;  that  they  should  fight  to 
he  last  extremity,  even  to  sinking  of  their  vessels,  in 
vhich  case  they  were  to  take  to  their  boats ;  that  if  any 
■aptain  were  to  attempt  to  break  the  line  and  hang  back, 
he  others  should  immediately  fire  on  him.  This  is  reso- 
ute  of  Dewinter,  and  I  have  every  reason  to  think  his  fleet 
(fill  second  him.  He  has  sent  off  a  courier  to  the  govern- 
nent  to  announce  all  this,  and  if  the  wind  springs  up  in 
•ur  favor,  we  will  set  off  instantly.” — “  All  is  ready,  and 
lothing  is  wanting  but  a  fair  wind.  We  are  riding  at 
ingle  anchor.” 

“  There  never  was,  and  never  will  be,  such  an  expedi- 
ion  as  ours,  if  it  succeeds ;  it  is  not  merely  to  determine 
/hich  of  two  despots  shall  sit  upon  a  throne,  or  whether 
n  island  shall  belong  to  this  or  that  state, — it  is  to  change 
be  destiny  of  Europe ;  to  emancipate  one,  perhaps  three, 
ations  ;  to  open  the  sea  to  the  commerce  of  the  world  ; 
)  found  a  new  empire  ;  to  demolish  an  ancient  one ;  to 
ubvert  a  tyranny  of  six  hundred  years.  And  all  this 
angs  to-day  upon  the  wind.  I  can  not  express  the  anxiety 
feel.  W ell,  no  matter !  I  can  do  nothing  to  help  my- 
fif,  and  that  aggravates  my  rage.  Our  ships  exercise  at 
reat  guns  and  small  arms  every  day ;  they  fire  in  general 
icomparably  well,  and  it  is  a  noble  spectacle.” 

Again  the  elements  fought  for  England.  Week  after 


154 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


week  tlie  wind  continued  to  blow  against  them.  Thej 
were  consuming  their  provisions,  and  must  soon  disembark 
The  mutiny  at  the  Nore  was  quelled,  and  Admiral  Duncar 
was  receiving  reinforcements. 

“July  28,  6  o’clock.  I  am  now  alone  in  the  greal 
cabin,  and  I  see  from  the  window  twenty-two  sail  of  Englisl 
vessels,  anchored  within  a  league  of  our  fleet.  It  is  impos 
sible  to  express  the  variety  of  ideas  which  shoot  across 
my  mind  at  this  moment.  I  think  I  should  suffer  less  k 
the  middle  of  a  sea-fight;  and  the  wind  is  still  foul 
Suspense  is  more  terrible  than  danger.  Little  as  I  am  of  i 
Quixote,  loving  as  I  do,  to  distraction,  my  wife  and  deares' 
babies,  I  wish  to  heaven  we  were  this  moment  under  weigi 
to  meet  the  enemy,  with  whom  we  should  be  up  in  ai 
hour.  It  is  terrible  to  see  the  two  fleets  so  near,  and  t< 
find  ourselves  so  helpless.  The  sea  is  just  now  as  smootl 
as  a  mill-pond.  Ten  times,  since  I  began  this  note,  I  havi 
lifted  my  eyes  to  look  at  the  enemy.  Well,  it  can  not  hi 
that  this  inaction  wall  continue  long.  I  am  now  aboarc 
twenty  days,  and  we  have  not  had  twenty  minutes  of  i 
fair  wind  to  carry  us  out.” 

“  On  the  80th,  in  the  morning  early,  the  wind  was  fan 
the  signal  given  to  prepare  to  get  under  weigh,  and  ever1 
thing  ready,  when,  at  the  very  instant  we  were  about  ti 
weigh  the  anchor,  and  put  to  sea,  the  wind  chopped  abou 
and  left  us.  In  an  hour  after,  the  wind  hauled  round  I 
the  south,  and  blew  a  gale  with  thunder  and  lightning ;  si 
it  was  well  we  were  not  caught  in  the  shoals.  At  last  i 
fixed  in  the  south-west,  almost  the  very  worst  quarter  pos 
sible,  where  it  has  remained  steadily  ever  since.  Not  to 


THE  EXPEDITION  ABANDONED. 


155 


lose  time,  the  Admiral  sent  out  an  officer  with  a  letter 
addressed  to  Admiral  Duncan,  but,  in  fact,  to  reconnoiter 
the  enemy’s  force.  He  returned  yesterday  with  a  report 
that  Duncan’s  fleet  is  of  seventeen  sail  of  the  line,  including 
two  or  three  three-deckers,  which  is  pleasant.  There 
seems  to  be  a  fate  in  this  business.  Five  weeks  the  English 
fleets  were  paralyzed  by  the  mutinies  at  Portsmouth,  Ply¬ 
mouth,  and  the  Nore.  The  sea  was  open,  and  nothing 
to  prevent  both  the  Dutch  and  French  fleets  to  put  to  sea. 
Well,  nothing  was  ready,  that  precious  opportunity,  which 
we  can  never  expect  to  return,  was  lost ;  and  now  that  at 
last  we  are  ready  here,  the  wind  is  against  us,  the  mutiny 
is  quelled,  and  we  are  sure  to  be  attacked  by  a  superior 
force.” 

Week  after  week  passed,  and  the  wind  still  blew  from 
the  same  quarter,  steady  as  the  trade-wind,  until  near  the 
close  of  August;  the  provisions  were  nearly  exhausted, 
and  the  troops  were  disembarked,  and  the  expedition,  at 
least  for  a  time,  abandoned.  Early  in  September,  Tone 
returned  to  the  army  on  the  Rhine. 

But  a  few  weeks  after  Tone  had  left  the  fleet,  and 
when  Admiral  Duncan  was  still  farther  reinforced,  the 
Dutch  government  had  the  inexplicable  folly  to  hazard  an 
engagement.  The  result  was  the  victory  of  Camperdown, 
one  of  the  most  memorable  in  the  naval  annals  of  Great 
Britain.  “  Dewinter,”  says  Tone,  “  fought  like  a  lion,  and 
defended  himself  to  the  last  extremity ;  but  was  at  length 
forced  to  strike,  as  were  nine  of  his  fleet  out  of  sixteen.” 

About  this  time,  Hoclie  died  of  consumption ;  and  with 


15C 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


liim  expired  the  last  hope  of  aid  from  France.  A  greater 
loss  could  not  have  occurred  to  the  Republic  or  to  Ireland. 
At  this  time  Iloche  and  Napoleon  were  rivals.  The  army 
was  divided  in  its  admiration  between  them.  But  Hoche 
was  the  nobler  character,  as  he  was  capable  of  sacrificing 
himself  to  his  country.  He  was  a  sincere  Republican. 
“  This  young  man,”  says  Thiers,  “  who  from  sergeant  in 
the  French  guards,  had  become  in  one  campaign  comman¬ 
der-in-chief,  loved  the  Republic  as  his  mother  and  his 
benefactress.  In  the  dungeons  of  the  Committee  of  Public 
Safety  his  fondness  had  not  cooled.  In  La  Vendee  it  had 
been  strengthened  while  contending  with  the  royalists.” 
At  the  time  of  the  conspiracy  of  the  royalists  at  Paris, 
Hoche  said  to  Tone,  “If  these  rascals  were  to  succeed  and 
put  down  the  government,  I  march  my  army  that  instant 
against  Paris,  and  when  I  have  restored  the  constitution,  I 
break  my  sword,  and  never  touch  it  afterward.”  Had 
Hoche  lived,  he  would  probably  have  supported  the 
Republic  against  the  ambition  of  Bonaparte.  He  is 
perhaps  the  only  general  of  France  of  whom  Napoleon 
ever  condescended  to  speak  as  a  formidable  rival.* 

But  now  he  was  gone — he  was  dead. 

*  “  To-day,  in  the  course  of  conversation,  the  name  of  Hoche  having  been 
mentioned,  some  one  observed  that  at  a  very  early  age  he  had  inspired  great 
hope.  ‘  And  what  is  still  better,’  said  Napoleon,  ‘  you  may  add  that  he 
fulfilled  that  hope.  Hoche  possessed  a  hostile,  provoking  kind  of  ambition. 
He  was  the  sort  of  man  who  could  conceive  the  idea  of  coming  from  Stras- 
burg  with  25,000  men,  to  seize  the  reins  of  government  by  force.’  The 
Emperor  added,  that  Hoche  would  ultimately  either  have  yielded  to  him,  or 
must  have  subdued  him ;  and  as  he  was  fond  of  money  and  pleasure,  he 
doubted  not  he  would  have  yielded  to  him.” — Las  Casas. 


DEATH  OF  HOCHE. 


151 


“  Brief,  brave,  and  glorious  was  bis  young  career.” 

The  republic  could  only  testify  its  grief  and  its  admiration 
by  the  pomp  of  funeral  rites.  A  magnificent  pageant  was 
decreed  him  in  the  Champ  de  Mars.  An  immense  con¬ 
course  of  people  gazed  in  mournful  silence  at  the  lofty  car 
hung  in  black.  The  army  of  Paris,  sad  and  slow,  followed 
the  bier.  As  it  swept  through  the  streets,  all  eyes  were 
turned  to  the  head  of  the  column,  where  the  aged  father  of 
Iloche  attended  as  chief  mourner.  The  body  of  the  youth¬ 
ful  hero  was  appropriately  left  to  sleep  on  the  banks  of  the 
Rhine,  on  the  field  of  his  fame.  He  was  buried  in  the 
same  grave  with  General  Marceau.  The  reader  will  recall 
the  lines  in  Childe  Harold — 

“  By  Coblentz,  on  a  rise  of  gentle  ground, 

There  is  a  small  and  simple  pyramid, 

Crowning  the  summit  of  the  verdant  mound  ; 

Beneath  its  base  are  heroes’  ashes  hid.” 

With  his  dying  breath  Hoche  urged  upon  the  Directory 
another  expedition  for  the  invasion  of  Ireland.  Had  Car¬ 
not  remained  in  the  Directory,  his  wish  might  have  been 
accomplished.  But  the  organizer  of  victory  had  been 
driven  from  power  by  the  jealousy  of  his  colleagues,  and 
France  missed  the  powerful  hand  that  had  guided  her 
armies. 

At  first  was  held  out  the  prospect  of  a  more  extended 
invasion  of  the  British  Islands.  Scarcely  had  the  expedi¬ 
tion  of  the  Texel  been  abandoned,  when  it  was  announced 
that  a  peace  with  Austria  was  definitely  concluded.  The 
firing  of  cannon,  and  illuminated  cities,  proclaimed  the  joy- 


158 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


ful  tidings.  Not  an  enemy  on  tlie  Continent  was  in  arms 
against  France.  England  alone  remained.  Immediately 
followed  tlie  announcement  that  a  grand  army  of  England 
was  to  be  formed  under  the  command  of  Bonaparte,  who 
had  just  returned  to  Paris,  fresh  from  the  glory  of  his  Italian 
campaigns.  In  this  army  Tone  received  the  appointment 
of  adjutant-general.  He  had  several  interviews  with  Napo¬ 
leon  on  the  subject  of  Ireland.  Buonaparte  had  asked 
General  Clarke  in  whom  he  had  most  confidence  as  to  Irish 
affairs.  Clarke  answered,  “  In  Tone,  by  all  means.”  But 
Bonaparte  had  little  knowledge  of  Ireland,  and  no  idea  of 
the  importance  of  thus  dismembering  the  English  empire. 
He  is  even  reported  to  have  said  to  the  Directory,  “  What 
more  do  you  desire  from  the  Irish?  You  see  that  their 
movements  already  operate  a  powerful  diversion.”  His 
thoughts  were  on  another  quarter  of  the  world,  and  ere 
many  months  had  elapsed,  the  troops  destined  to  invade 
Ireland,  were  on  their  way  to  Egypt.  Napoleon  alluded 
to  this  at  St.  Helena,  apparently  with  the  feeling  that  he 
had  made  a  great  mistake :  “If  instead  of  the  expedition  to 
Egypt,  I  had  undertaken  that  against  Ireland,  what  could 
England  have  done  now  ?  On  such  chances  depend  the 
destinies  of  empires  !”* 


*  Memoirs  of  Las  Casas. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


The  United  Irishmen  organized  into  a  Government  and  an  Army. — Ex¬ 
tent  of  the  Society. — Secrecy. — Their  Oaths. — Attempt  to  suppress 
them  by  Force. — The  Triumvirate,  Castlereagh,  Clare  and  Carhamp- 
ton. — Reign  of  Terror  in  Ireland. — The  State  Trials. — The  Struggle 
approaching. — Military  Preparations. 

While  “the  indefatigable  Tone,”  as  Moore  calls  him, 
was  at  work  in  France,  moving  heaven  and  earth  to  effect 
the  invasion  of  Ireland,  his  confederates  at  home  were  not 
idle.  Great  events  had  transpired  since  he  sailed  for 
America.  The  United  Irish  Society,  which  had  then  just 
been  established  on  a  new  basis,  as  a  secret  society,  having 
for  its  object  no  longer  reform,  but  revolution,  had  ex¬ 
tended  into  all  parts  of  Ireland.  Nothing  could  be  more 
perfect  than  its  organization.  Every  thing  depended  on 
maintaining  perfect  secrecy,  and  this  was  difficult  in  a  body 
so  widely  extended.  But  here  the  admirable  contrivance 
of  their  organization  became  apparent.  The  greatest  dan¬ 
ger  to  be  apprehended,  was  from  strangers  insinuating 
themselves  into  the  society  in  order  to  betray  it.  To  avoid 
the  mixture  of  persons  unknown  to  each  other,  it  was  fixed 
that  no  society  should  consist  of  more  than  twelve  persons, 
and  those  as  nearly  as  possible  from  the  same  street  or 
neighborhood.  By  each  of  these  societies  of  twelve  a  sec- 


160 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


retary  was  cliosen,  and  the  secretaries  of  five  such  societies 
formed  a  committee. 

“  Having  provided  hy  these  successive  layers,  as  it 
were,  of  delegated  authority,  each  exercising  a  superin¬ 
tendence  over  that  immediately  below  it,  for  the  organiza¬ 
tion  of  the  several  counties  and  populous  towns,  they  next 
superadded,  in  each  of  the  four  provinces,  a  provincial 
committee,  composed  of  two  or  sometimes  three  members 
elected  from  each  of  the  county  committees ;  and  lastly, 
came  the  Executive,  the  apex  of  the  system,  which  con¬ 
sisted  of  five  persons,  chosen  in  such  a  manner  from  the 
provincial  committees  as  to  leave  the  members  of  the  latter 
in  entire  ignorance  as  to  the  individuals  selected.  Over 
the  whole  body  thus  organized,  the  Executive  possessed 
full  command,  and  could  transmit  its  orders  through  the 
whole  range  of  the  Union — one  member  of  the  Executive 
communicating  them  to  one  member  of  the  provincial  com¬ 
mittee,  and  he  again  to  the  secretary  of  the  county  com¬ 
mittee,  who,  in  like  manner,  passed  them  down  through 
the  secretaries  of  the  baronials,  and  these  on  to  the  secreta¬ 
ries  of  the  subordinate  societies.”*  In  counsel,  and  in 
transmitting  intelligence,  no  one  saw  any  but  the  individ¬ 
ual  with  whom  he  transacted  business.  Thus  this  ad¬ 
mirable  organization  extended  like  a  chain  of  wires  all  over 
Ireland,  but  the  hands  that  worked  them  moved  in  the 
dark. 

To  these  numerous  precautions  was  added  an  oath  of 
inviolable  secrecy,  which  was  taken  by  every  one  who 
joined  the  society.  Whoever  is  acquainted  with  the  Irish 
*  Moore’s  Life  of  Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald,  vol.  i.  p.  196. 


NEW  ORGANIZATION.— SECRECY. 


161 


character,  is  aware  that  they  attach  a  peculiar  sacredness  to 
an  obligation  taken  with  the  solemnities  of  religion.  And 
never  was  more  signal  proof  of  their  fidelity  given  than  in 
this  conspiracy. 

“  Whoever  reflects  on  this  constitution,”  says  Thomas 
Addis  Emmet,  “  will  see  that  it  was  prepared  with  most 
important  views.  It  formed  a  gradually  extending  repre¬ 
sentative  system,  founded  on  universal  suffrage,  and  fre¬ 
quent  elections.  It  was  fitted  to  a  barony,  county,  or 
province,  while  the  organization  was  confined  within  these 
limits.  But  if  the  whole  nation  adopted  the  system,  it  fur¬ 
nished  a  national  government.” 

In  these  societies,  the  people  received  the  political  train¬ 
ing  which  was  necessary  to  prepare  them  to  become  a  na¬ 
tion  of  freemen.  “  The  Irish  people  to  the  amount  of  half 
a  million  or  more,  were  constantly  brought  together  in 
small  bodies  to  discuss,  to  vote  and  to  deliberate.  The 
whole  presented  one  grand  system  of  order  and  subordina¬ 
tion.”  IIow  complete  was  the  discipline  maintained,  is  evi¬ 
dent  from  a  single  fact.  The  poorer  Irish  were  much  ad¬ 
dicted  to  intemperance.  But  at  a  signal  from  the  Execu¬ 
tive,  intimating  that  while  under  the  influence  of  spirits 
they  might  disclose  something  affecting  the  safety  of  their 
comrades,  the  ale-houses  were  generally  abandoned,  so  as 
to  produce  a  very  serious  falling  off  in  the  revenue  derived 
from  the  tax  on  spirits. 

This  rigid  discipline  was  all-important  on  another  ac¬ 
count.  The  leaders  wished  to  effect  a  change  of  govern¬ 
ment,  but  at  the  same  time  to  maintain  order.  They 
would  secure  the  independence  of  Ireland,  but  they  would 


1G2 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


not  run  into  anarchy.  They  knew  the  confusion  into 
which  all  tilings  are  thrown  by  a  revolution,  and  this  they 
wished  to  forestall,  by  having  a  new  government  framed 
to  be  instantly  erected  on  the  ruins  of  the  old.  They  felt 
that  Ireland  by  her  long  oppression,  had  been  prepared  for 
a  complete  political  change,  and  the  introduction  of  a  new 
government.  If  the  people  were  united,  and  stood  firm, 
such  a  revolution  might  be  effected  without  the  shedding 
of  blood.  They  had  constantly  before  their  eyes  the  Rev¬ 
olution  of  1688,  in  which  a  popular  general,  landing  in 
England  with  but  a  small  army,  gave  the  friends  of  liberty 
an  opportunity  to  declare  themselves,  and  took  peaceful 
possession  of  the  throne.  The  leaders  well  knew  that  the 
more  perfect  was  their  organization,  the  more  certain  would 
be  their  success,  and  the  less  blood  would  be  shed.  They 
could  disarm  the  government  in  a  moment.  The  confu¬ 
sion  which  intervenes  between  the  overthrow  of  one  gov¬ 
ernment,  and  the  establishment  of  another,  would  be 
avoided.  Ireland  would  pass  at  once  from  tyranny  and 
misrule  to  liberty  and  order. 

The  United  Irish  Society — or  the  Union,  as  it  was 
called  in  those  days — was  also  strong  in  the  character  and 
rank  of  those  who  belonged  to  it,  as  well  as  in  numbers. 
The  aristocracy  generally  stood  aloof,  for  their  interests 
were  too  closely  allied  with  the  English  ascendency.  But 
many  persons  of  wealth,  as  well  as  men  of  the  first  talent 
in  the  nation,  belonged  to  it.  In  the  examination  of  the 
state-prisoners  before  the  secret  committee  of  the  House  of 
Lords,  which  took  place  at  a  later  day,  particular  inquiry 
was  made  on  this  point.  Said  one  of  the  committee,  “  Al- 


STRENGTH  OP  THE  SOCIETY. 


1G3 


though  talent  and  education  are  to  be  found  in  the  Union, 
jet  there  is  no  comparison,  in  point  of  property,  between 
those  who  invited  the  French,  and  those  who  brought  in 
King  William.” 

“  Pardon  me,  sir,” — said  Dr.  McNeven,  to  whom  the  re¬ 
mark  was  addressed — “  I  know  very  many  who  possess 
probably  much  larger  properties  than  did  Lord  Danby, 
who  signed  the  invitation  to  the  Prince  of  Orange,  or  than 
did  Lord  Somers,  who  was  the  great  champion  of  the  Dev¬ 
olution.  The  property  in  the  Union  is  immense ;  but  per¬ 
sons  in  a  situation  to  be  more  easily  watched  were  not  re¬ 
quired  to  render  themselves  conspicuous.” 

General  Cockburn,  writing  to  the  Marquis  of  Anglesea, 
says,  “I  have  the  strongest  reasons  to  believe,  and  quite 
sufficient  to  convince  myself,  that  many  persons  little  sus¬ 
pected,  and  whose  names  would  astonish  if  disclosed,  were 
of  the  United  Society.”  They  had  their  agents  in  every 
part  of  Ireland,  and  in  every  rank.  Not  only  amid  the 
bogs  of  Connaught  and  Munster,  but  in  the  Castle  of 
Dublin,  in  the  very  councils  of  the  government,  treason 
was  at  work.  It  is  stated  on  the  best  authority,  that  of  the 
late  Dr.  McNeven,  that  a  general  officer  at  that  time  hold¬ 
ing  a  command  in  the  army,  and  even  a  member  of  the 
privy  council,  secretly  favored  them,  and  kept  them  in¬ 
formed  of  the  proposed  measures  of  government.  In  one 
instance  a  colonel  in  the  army  secretly  sent  money  to  a 
United  Irishman  who  was  to  be  tried  for  his  life,  to  enable 
him  to  make  his  defense,  and  to  this  timely  aid  the  pris¬ 
oner  owed  his  safety.  Thus  the  government  and  the 
Union  secretly  watched  each  other,  using  every  precau- 


1G4 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


tion  to  conceal  tlieir  own  movements,  and  to  guard  against 
surprise. 

The  organization  of  the  United  Irishmen  resembled 
that  of  an  army,  and  naturally  suggested  that  it  might  be 
transformed  into  an  army.  Accordingly  in  1796,  as  the 
struggle  grew  more  open,  and  it  became  daily  more  prob¬ 
able  that  it  must  be  decided  by  force  of  arms,  a  military 
organization  was  engrafted  on  the  civil.  This  was  easily 
done.  The  officers  of  the  society  received  military  ap¬ 
pointments.  “The  secretary  of  each  subordinate  society 
of  twelve  was  transformed  easily  into  a  sergeant  or  cor¬ 
poral  ;  the  delegate  of  five  societies  became  a  captain  with 
sixty  men  under  his  command,  and  the  member  of  a 
county  committee  took  rank  as  a  colonel  at  the  head  of  a 
battalion  of  six  hundred  men.”* 

But  a  very  good  secretary  might  be  a  very  poor  officer. 
Therefore  to  watch  over  this  great  army,  the  appointment 
of  all  officers  higher  than  a  colonel  was  reserved  to  the 
Executive.  They  appointed  the  commander-in-chief,  se¬ 
lecting  for  that  post,  as  we  shall  soon  see,  an  officer  of 
great  military  talents.  They  also  nominated  an  adjutant- 
general  for  each  county.  Their  whole  strength  was  half  a 
million,  and  they  estimated  that  they  should  be  able  to 
take  the  field  with  three  hundred  thousand  men.  With 
this  force,  disciplined  and  furnished  with  arms,  they  knew 
that  the  island  was  theirs. 

The  two  parties  which  divided  Ireland  were  now  fairly 
committed  to  hostilities.  The  government,  blind  and  ob¬ 
stinate,  would  make  no  concessions.  The  United  Irish- 

*  Moore’s  Life  of  Fitzgerald,  vol.  i.  p.  197. 


CLARE  AND  CASTLEREAGH. 


165 


men  saw  no  hope  of  redress  except  by  force  of  arms.  Thus 
they  stood,  looking  at  each  other  in  defiance,  each  waiting 
for  the  other  to  begin. 

In  the  autumn  of  1796  the  government  declared  open 
war  against  the  United  Irish  Society.  It  endeavored  to 
crush  the  body  by  a  wholesale  system  of  arrests.  Hun¬ 
dreds  who  were  suspected  of  being  members,  were  seized 
and  dragged  to  prison.  A  law  was  passed  making  the  ad¬ 
ministering  illegal  oaths  a  capital  crime,  and  scaffolds  were 
erected  throughout  the  land. 

The  man  who  took  the  lead  in  this  effort  of  suppression 
was  Lord  Castlereagh.  This  nobleman  had  begun  his  polit¬ 
ical  career  as  the  advocate  of  liberal  measures.  He  had  been 
enrolled  in  the  ranks  of  the  Irish  volunteers.  In  1790, 
when  a  candidate  for  the  representation  of  the  county  of 
Down,  he  had  given  the  most  ample  pledges  to  support  re¬ 
form.  But  he  was  now  in  power,  and  showed  himself  the 
most  uncompromising  enemy  of  liberal  concessions.  He 
was  not  ashamed  to  serve  as  inquisitor  and  jailer  to  hunt 
out  and  destroy  the  associates  of  his  early  political  career. 

The  government  of  Ireland  at  this  time  was  nominally 
in  the  hands  of  Lord  Camden,  but  really  of  a  triumvirate, 
Clare,  Castlereagh  and  Carhampton,  who  found  in  the 
viceroy  an  easy  tool. 

Lord  Clare  was  a  very  violent  man.  Yet  he  had  some 
good  qualities.  Said  McNeven,  “Lord  Clare  was  a  sort 
of  an  Irishman  in  feeling ;  with  all  his  vices,  he  was  not 
of  the  same  class  as  Lord  Castlereagh,  his  blood  was  warm, 
and  he  was  susceptible  of  generous  emotions.” 

Castlereagh  was  a  smooth-faced,  calculating  politician. 


166 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


His  conduct  at  this  time  would  give  the  impression  that  he 
was  a  ruffian.  And  yet  he  had  a  noble  air.  His  form  was 
erect  and  commanding.  His  address  was  that  of  a  high¬ 
bred  man.  It  inspired  respect,  and  conciliated  the  good 
opinion  of  those  who  were  suffering  from  his  relentless 
policy.* 

But  his  heart  was  cold.  Ho  generous  impulse,  no  en¬ 
thusiasm  for  liberty,  ever  checked  his  remorseless  career. 
He  felt  no  admiration  for  the  valor  of  a  foe  ;  no  pity  for 
misfortune.  He  did  not  positively  delight  in  blood.  But 
having  once  adopted  his  policy,  he  pursued  it  as  a  matter 
of  business,  without  regard  to  the  amount  of  suffering 
which  it  produced.  His  character  is  well  described  by 
Lord  Brougham  in  his  Sketches  of  Statesmen  of  the  Time 
of  George  III. 

Castlereagh  and  Clare  were  both  political  apostates. 
Carhampton,  the  most  insignificant  of  the  three,  was  a  de¬ 
scendant  of  the  famoixs  Luttrel,  whose  name  in  Ireland  is  a 
synonym  for  traitor.  He  exercised  his  cruelty  through 
the  country  by  driving  on  board  prison-ships  hundreds, 
who,  in  the  language  of  the  day,  were  “  in  danger  of  es¬ 
caping  justice,”  that  is,  against  whom  there  was  no  proof 
of  guilt  on  which  even  an  Irish  court  could  rest  a  convic¬ 
tion. 

The  fate  of  two  of  this  wretched  triumvirate  gives  some 
color  to  the  popular  feeling  in  Ireland,  that  the  vengeance 
of  Heaven  pursued  them  for  having  sold  their  country. 
Two  years  after  the  union  was  consummated,  Lord  Clare 

*  See  Teeling’s  Personal  Narrative  of  the  Rebellion,  for  an  account  of 
Lord  Castlereagh’s  visit  to  him  in  prison. 


REIGN  OF  TERROR  IN  IRELAND. 


167 


was  borne  to  his  grave,  amid  the  hootings  of  the  people 
who  had  so  long  suffered  from  his  harsh  and  cruel  policy. 
His  life,  said  Grattan,  was  too  short  for  justice,  but  too 
long  for  his  country.  Lord  Castlereagh,  after  twenty  years’ 
longer  fighting  against  liberty  in  his  own  country,  and 
throughout  Europe,  perished  by  his  own  hand. 

Language  is  inadequate  to  describe  the  horror  of  the 
period  which  followed.  It  was  in  Ireland  what  the  Eeign 
of  Terror  was  in  France.  The  jails  were  crowded  with 
state-prisoners.  The  Habeas  Corpus  Act  was  suspended. 
Martial  law  was  proclaimed.  The  army  was  distributed 
throughout  the  country  in  free  quarters,  and  perpetrated 
every  outrage  of  cruelty  and  licentiousness.  The  brave 
Sir  Ralph  Abercrombie,  afterward  so  distinguished  in 
Egypt,  when  he  took  command  of  the  army  in  Ireland, 
declared  that  it  was  in  a  state  of  licentiousness  which  made 
it  formidable  to  every  one  but  the  enemy.  He  was  so  sick 
with  horror  at  the  atrocities  around  him,  that  he  wished  to 
throw  up  his  command.  Sir  John  Moore  was  equally  ap¬ 
palled  at  the  barbarities  of  the  military.  But  those  in 
power  connived  at  the  work.  They  said,  “The  country 
must  be  made  sick  of  republicanism,”  The  military  were 
ordered  to  act  without  waiting  for  the  civil  power.  Thus 
full  scope  was  given  to  their  brutal  instincts.  Under  all 
this,  the  people  were  forced  to  keep  silent.  A  gunpowder 
bill  was  passed  to  disarm  them :  a  convention  bill,  to  pre¬ 
vent  their  assembling  to  remonstrate.  Orders  were  given 
to  disperse  by  force  any  meeting  of  counties  to  petition  the 
king.  Any  person  suspected  of  sympathizing  with  the 
United  Irishmen,  was  liable  to  be  arrested  and  whipped  or 


1G8 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


tortured  to  extort  confession.*  Men  were  employed  to 
act  as  spies  upon  their  neighbors,  and  to  report  suspected 
persons  to  the  government.  A  well-known  gang  of  in¬ 
formers  was  kept  about  the  castle,  called  the  Battalion  of 
Testimony.  Servants  were  tempted  by  bribes  and  threats 
to  betray  their  masters.  Many  were  strangled  in  the  fruit¬ 
less  attempt  to  force  from  them  some  acknowledgment  of 
guilt.  A  favorite  mode  of  torture  was  to  fill  a  paper  cap 
with  burning  pitch,  and  put  it  on  the  head  of  the  victim. 
The  shrieks  of  the  sufferer,  as  the  pitch  streamed  into  his 
eyes  and  down  his  neck,  excited  the  merriment  of  officers 
and  men.  They  pricked  him  with  their  bayonets,  and 
drowned  his  cries  with  savage  yells,  until  often  his  suffer¬ 
ings  were  terminated  by  death.  Others  perished  under 
the  lash,  and  hundreds  were  shot  down  in  the  quiet  of 
their  homes.  Houses  were  burned.  If  in  any  thing  the  sol¬ 
diery  exceeded  the  limits  of  their  terrible  authority,  in¬ 
demnity  acts  were  quickly  passed  to  legalize  every  bar¬ 
barity. 

It  will  hardly  be  believed  that  torture  was  practiced  in 
a  civilized  country  at  the  close  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
But  the  facts  were  notorious — “  Crimes,  many  of  which,” 
said  Grattan,  “  are  public,  and  many  committed,  which  are 
concealed  by  the  suppression  of  a  free  press  by  military 
force.”  Lord  Moira  detailed  these  atrocities  before  the 
British  House  of  Lords,  and  pledged  himself  to  the  proof. 
He  moved  an  address  to  his  majesty,  imploring  him  to 
conciliate  the  affections  of  the  Irish  people.  His  motion 

*  A  common  mode  of  obtaining  evidence  was  by  half-hanging. 


THE  STATE  TRIALS. 


169 


was  rejected.  Fox  pressed  the  same  subject  on  the  House 
of  Commons,  but  with  no  better  success. 

In  that  day  these  cruelties  were  openly  boasted  of,  but 
since  time  and  a  better  public  sentiment  have  produced 
some  sense  of  shame,  they  have  been  denied.  But  Lord 
Clare  published  them  without  disguise  in  the  presence  of 
Parliament,  and  boasted  of  his  own  part  in  them,  declaring 
“that  measures  of  coercion  were  to  his  knowledge,  ex¬ 
torted  from  the  nobleman  who  governed  that  country.” 
Lord  Camden  lived  long  enough  to  find  that  such  crimes 
added  nothing  to  his  esteem  with  the  world.  Toward  the 
close  of  his  life,  it  is  said,  that  he  bitterly  complained  of 
having  been  kept  in  utter  ignorance  of  the  atrocities  prac¬ 
ticed  in  the  name  of  his  government. 

Then  began  the  cold-blooded  cruelty  of  the  state  trials. 
The  purest  characters  in  the  land  were  dragged  to  prison 
md  to  the  scaffold.  At  this  awful  moment  Curran  stepped 
forward  to  defend  his  hunted  countrymen.  It  was  the 
lark  hour  of  Ireland’s  history.  The  reign  of  terror  had 
Degun.  No  man  was  safe  who  had  dared  to  oppose  the 
savage  tyranny  of  those  in  power.  Jeffreys  on  his  bloody 
jircuit,  hardly  excited  more  terror  than  did  the  courts 
vhich  were  now  opened.  For  a  time  the  eloquence  of 
lurran  seemed  the  only  barrier  to  those  judicial  massacres. 
Cvery  means  was  employed  to  intimidate  him.  Often,  as 
ie  entered  the  court-room,  anonymous  letters  were  put  into 
is  hand,  threatening  assassination  if  he  dared  to  appear 
n  the  defense.  He  knew  that  the  court  and  the  jury 
re  re  prejudiced  against  him.  “  They  had  already  fore- 
oomed  his  client  to  the  grave.”  Under  the  depression  of 

H 


170 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


these  circumstances,  he  rose  to  do  all  that  mortal  man 
could  do  to  save  the  doomed  prisoner  at  the  bar.  Even 
then  the  power  of  his  eloquence  was  often  overwhelming. 
The  perjured  witness  shrunk  from  his  glance.  The  judge 
and  jury  could  not  escape  the  terrible  fascination  of  his 
eye.  And  if  a  spectator  sufficiently  recovered  from  the 
spell  to  be  able  to  glance  around  at  the  sea  of  faces,  he 
beheld  many  an  eye  wet  with  tears.  But  it  was  all  in 
vain.  Oppression  knows  neither  remorse  nor  pity.  Beason, 
justice,  eloquence,  could  not  avail.  The  work  of  blood 
still  went  on. 

These  atrocities  were  the  immediate  cause  of  the1 
[Rebellion  of  1798.  Oppression  makes  a  wise  man  mad. 
It  now  made  peaceable  men  revolutionists.  These  acts  of 
tyranny  were  beyond  comparison  greater  than  those  which 
provoked  the  American  [Revolution.  If  our  fathers  were:, 
justified  in  taking  up  arms,  the  Irish  can  not  be  condemned 
in  history  merely  by  calling  them  rebels.  That  they 
resisted  such  a  government  is  true.  And  the  fact  is  to  be 
recorded  not  to  their  shame,  but  to  their  honor.  For  they 
resisted  where  only  cowards  and  slaves  could  submit.  “  If 
that  be  treason,  make  the  most  of  it."* 

This  persecution  drove  thousands  into  the  ranks  of  the 
United  Irishmen,  who  otherwise  would  not  have  thought 
of  conspiring  against  the  government.  The  organization 
of  Orangemen  to  support  “  Protestant  Ascendency,”  that 
is,  to  continue  the  persecution  of  the  Catholics ;  rendered 
the  movement  more  rapid.  Wherever  Orange  lodges 
spread,  the  United  Irishmen  astonishingly  increased. 

*  The  language  of  Patrick  Henry  just  before  the  American  Revolution, 


THE  DAY  OF  BATTLE  POSTPONED.  171 


The  county  of  Armagh  was  especially  the  seat  of  Orange 
violence.  An  organized  banditti — unchecked,  if  not  ac¬ 
tually  countenanced  by  government — ravaged  that  beauti¬ 
ful  region.  They  posted  on  the  cabins  of  the  peasantry 
warnings  to  quit  the  country.  “To  Hell  or  Connaught’' 
was  the  summary  alternative.  Thousands  of  poor  families 
were  driven  from  their  homes,  without  shelter  and  without 
bread.  Those  who  remained,  naturally  armed  themselves 
for  defense  and  retaliation.  Hence  arose  the  Association 
of  the  Defenders ;  and  afterward  Armagh  became  a 
stronghold  of  the  United  Irishmen. 

In  the  spring  of  1797  every  thing  was  ready  for  the 
blow.  The  people  were  exasperated  to  the  highest  pitch 
by  the  persecutions  of  the  government,  and  burned  for 
revenge.  The  organization  had  been  completed.  A  rev¬ 
olutionary  staff  had  been  formed,  and  officers  appointed 
in  every  part  of  Ireland,  who  only  waited  the  word  of 
command  to  draw  their  swords.  A  plan  of  insurrection 
had  been  formed,  in  which  they  were  assisted  by  some 
Irish  officers,  who  had  commanded  in  the  Austrian  service. 
Part  of  the  army  had  been  gained  over.  At  one  time, 
eight  hundred  of  the  garrison  of  Dublin  offered  to  surren¬ 
der  the  barracks,  if  the  leaders  would  give  the  signal.  The 
militia  were  extensively  in  their  interests. 

The  English  navy  was  also  full  of  Irish  sailors.  Means 
had  been  taken  secretly  to  secure  their  co-operation.  And 
had  the  revolution  been  once  commenced  with  vigor,  it  is 
probable  that  they  would  have  brought  a  large  part  of  the 
British  fleet  into  the  Irish  ports. 


172  THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 

Iii  such  circumstances  the  people  were  impatient  of 
delay.  The  north  especially — the  men  of  Ulster — de¬ 
manded  to  be  led  into  immediate  battle.*  Then  was  their 
time.  Never  was  there  a  fairer  prospect  of  Revolution. 
Had  the  flag  been  unfurled,  the  insurrection  would  have 
swept  from  the  Giants’  Causeway  to  Cape  Clear. 

It  is  now  seen  that  a  great  opportunity  was  missed. 
But  it  appeared  otherwise  then.  The  councils  of  the 
Directory  were  divided.  The  commander-in-chief  and  the 
more  ardent  spirits  longed  to  be  in  the  field.  But  on  the 
other  hand,  cooler  men  thought  that  they  put  every  thing 
to  risk  by  drawing  the  sword  too  soon.  Emmet  dreaded 
the  idea  of  a  premature  insurrection.  McNeven,  who  was 
personally  as  brave  as  a  lion,  says,  “  I  was  always  opposed 
to  our  beginning  by  ourselves.”  Tone  wrote  from  France, 
entreating  them  to  remain  quiet,  and  not  by  a  premature 
explosion  give  the  government  a  pretext  to  let  loose  their 
dragoons  upon  them.  Talleyrand  had  given  the  strongest 

*  While  thus  impatiently  waiting  the  word  of  command,  “  the  Northern 
insurrection  had  been  nearly  precipitated  by  a  daring  exploit,  which  if  at¬ 
tempted  would  probably  have  succeeded.  At  a  splendid  ball  given  in  Bel-  i 
fast,  the  magistrates  of  the  county  and  the  military  officers  had  met  to  enjoy 
the  festivities  without  the  remotest  suspicion  of  danger  ;  the  principal  leaders  ] 
of  the  United  Irishmen  stood  in  the  crowd  looking  at  the  gay  assembly ;  one 
of  them  proposed  to  seize  so  favorable  an  opportunity,  to  anticipate  the  day  \ 
appointed  for  the  signal  of  revolt ;  at  once  assemble  their  men,  arrest  and 
detain  the  magistrates  and  officers  as  hostages,  and  establish  a  provisional 
government  in  Ulster.  The  bold  counsel  was  rejected  by  the  majority,  but  the 
wiser  minority  saw  that  the  timidity  which  rejected  such  an  opportunity  was 
unworthy  of  reliance,  and  either  made  their  peace  with  the  government  or 
quitted  the  country.” — Madden’s  Lives  of  the  United  Irishmen.  First  Se¬ 
ries.  Vol.  i.  p.  22. 


FATAL  RELIANCE  ON  FRANCE.  173 

assurances  that  an  expedition  was  in  forwardness ;  and  it 
really  seemed  that  they  had  but  to  wait  a  few  months,  to 
make  success  certain. 

These  arguments  prevailed.  The  leaders  postponed  the 
day  of  rising,  in  the  hope  that  a  French  army,  marching 
in  the  van  of  their  revolutionary  soldiers,  would  render 
the  movement  irresistible.  Two  vast  armaments  had  been 
fitted  out,  but  had  failed,  as  we  have  seen,  from  causes 
beyond  human  control.  And  now  postponing  the  day  of 
battle  damped  the  ardor  of  the  armies  of  the  insurrection. 
Month  after  month  they  looked  for  a  French  fleet  off  their 
coast.  Thus  waiting  for  foreign  assistance,  the  rising  was 
deferred  for  a  whole  year. 

In  truth,  as  the  event  proved,  this  reliance  upon 
France,  from  which  they  hoped  so  much,  prevented  the 
success  of  their  plans.  Had  they  thrown  off  this  de¬ 
pendence  altogether,  they  were  strong  enough  to  have 
effected  the  revolution  themselves.  Said  Emmet,  “  Had 
Ireland  never  relied  at  all  on  France,  her  prospects  might 
have  been  better  realized.  The  French,  however,  having 
once  promised,  the  reliance  on  this  promise  embarrassed 
every  thing.”  Napoleon  he  pronounced  the  worst  foe  that 
Ireland  ever  had. 

It  is  a  remarkable  instance  of  retribution,  that  this 
monarch  twice  held  out  the  hope  of  independence  to  a 
!  subject  nation,  and  twice  disappointed  their  hopes.  And 
these  two  nations,  Ireland  and  Poland,  were  the  two  best 
situated  to  be  a  check  on  his  most  powerful  enemies, 
England  and  Russia,  and  to  break  the  violence  of  his  fall. 


m 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


But  though,  deferred,  it  was  evident  that  a  great 
struggle  could  not  be  averted.  This  war  of  factions  must 
end  in  blood.  As  the  contest  was  seen  to  be  approaching, 
the  eyes  of  the  nation  were  turned  upon  one  man,  a  young 
and  gallant  soldier.  But  the  history  of  this  hero  demands 
a  more  particular  notice. 


CHAPTER  XIII 


Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald.  —  High  Birth.  —  Serves  in  the  American 
War.  —  Wounded  at  the  Battle  of  Eutaw  Springs.  —  Travels  in 
Spain. — Rejoins  his  Regiment  in  Canada. — Tour  to  the  Falls  of 
Niagara,  the  Great  Lakes  and  tiie  Mississippi. — Returns  to  Eng¬ 
land. — Associated  with  Fox  and  Sheridan. — Visits  Paris  during  the 
French  Revolution. — Marries  a  Daughter  of  Madame  de  Genlis. — 
Enters  Parliament.  —  Joins  the  United  Irishmen.  —  Is  appointed 
Commander-in-Chief. — Talents  for  War. — Military  Tactics. 

A  MORE  romantic  character,  and  a  life  more  full  of  ad¬ 
venture,  can  hardly  be  found  even  in  the  history  of  this 
romantic  people,  than  that  of  Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald. 
He  was  descended  from  the  most  ancient  British  family  in 
the  island,  and  the  most  distinguished  in  Irish  history. 
His  ancestor,  Maurice  Fitzgerald,  landed  with  the  first 
English  invasion  in  1170.  Yet  though  of  English  descent, 
this  family  had  always  espoused  the  cause  of  the  oppressed 
Natives  of  the  soil,  so  much  that  they  had  been  known  as 
Hibernis  ipsis  Hiberniores.  The  father  of  Lord  Edward  was 
the  Duke  of  Leinster ;  his  mother  a  daughter  of  the  Duke 
of  Richmond,  so  that  he  was  on  this  side  descended  from 
Charles  II.  This  son  was  born  in  1763.  At  the  age  of 
seventeen  he  went  out  to  Charleston,  as  a  lieutenant  in  the 
American  war.  He  soon  became  the  idol  of  the  army. 
His  high  rank  and  polished  manners  gave  him  access  to 


176 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


any  society,  while  his  warm  Irish  heart  made  him  a  uni¬ 
versal  favorite.  Those  associated  with  him  declared  that 
they  never  knew  so  lovable  a  person.  His  open  manner, 
his  gayety,  his  bravery,  and  at  the  same  time,  his  modesty, 
attached  every  body  about  him. 

He  shortly  distinguished  himself  in  an  action  at  Monk’s 
Corner,  and  was  appointed  on  Lord  Eawdon’s  staff.  He 
accompanied  him  in  his  rapid  and  successful  march  for  the 
relief  of  Ninety  Six,  always  in  the  van  of  the  army,  by 
which  his  person  was  greatly  exposed.  At  the  battle  of 
Eutaw  Springs  he  received  a  severe  wound  in  the  thigh, 
and  when  the  armies  drew  off,  he  was  lying  on  the  field, 
insensible.  When  he  awoke,  the  sound  of  battle  was 
gone.  The  first  living  sight  which  met  his  eyes  was  a 
poor  negro,  bending  over  him.  This  faithful  creature 
raised  the  wounded  officer  on  his  back,  and  carried  him 
off  to  his  hut,  and  there  nursed  him  until  he  was  well 
enough  to  be  removed  to  Charleston.  This  negro’s  name 
was  Tony,  whom  Fitzgerald  in  gratitude  for  his  kindness, 
took  to  Charleston  as  his  servant,  and  afterward  to 
Ireland.  And  thenceforth  in  all  his  wanderings,  the 
“faithful  Tony”  was  never  absent  from  his  side. 

It  has  been  questioned  by  those  who  have  followed  the 
subsequent  career  of  Lord  Edward,  whether  he  did  not 
imbibe  some  of  his  liberal  principles  during  the  American 
war.  His  biographer  thinks  not.  Yet  it  would  seem  that 
a  person  of  his  ardent  mind  could  hardly  avoid  being 
struck  with  the  chivalrous  daring  of  the  rebel  foe.  The 
war  in  South  Carolina  was,  in  some  respects,  more  full  of 
instances  of  romantic  daring  than  in  any  other  part  of  the 


SERVES  IN  X-HE  AMERICAN  WAR. 


m 


country.  After  tlie  American  armies  had  been  driven 
from  the  field,  numerous  corps  of  partisan  cavalry  were 
formed,  which  scoured  the  country,  surprising  detached 
parties,  cutting  off  supplies,  and  making  up  for  the  defect 
of  numbers  by  the  celerity  of  their  movements.  They 
rode  abroad  chiefly  by  night,  and  during  the  day  kept 
close  under  cover  of  the  thick  wood,  or  on  an  island  in  a 
morass.  From  these  retreats,  they  sallied  out  of  a  dark 
night,  and  after  riding  thirty  or  forty  miles,  came  in  like  a 
thunderbolt  on  the  enemy’s  camp. 

The  Irish  dragoons,  who  were  employed  in  the  partisan 
warfare  in  South  Carolina ;  began  to  conceive  an  admira¬ 
tion  for  the  brave  sons  of  the  forest,  who,  without  uniforms 
or  military  equipments,  were  yet  more  daring  riders  and 
more  desperate  fighters  than  themselves.  The  King’s 
troops  could  not  sit  down  in  their  camp  to  take  a  break¬ 
fast,  but  Marion’s  men  came  like  so  many  wild  Indians, 
dashing  out  of  the  wood,  each  horse  foaming  with  speed, 
and  each  rider  rising  out  of  his  saddle,  and  his  blade  flash¬ 
ing  on  high.  At  midnight  they  heard  the  rushing  of  their 
steeds,  like  goblin  horsemen,  and  saw  the  quick  flashes  of 
their  guns  light  up  the  greenwood  round.  The  Irish 
troops  felt  enthusiasm  for  such  a  chivalrous  foe.  These 
were  exhibitions  of  courage  in  which  Fitzgerald  delighted. 
There  were  too  many  points  of  resemblance  between  the 
condition  of  America  and  of  Ireland — both  oppressed  by 
the  same  power — not  to  suggest  themselves  to  their  reflec¬ 
tion — and  many  a  time  in  this  fraternal  war,  did  their 
thoughts  turn  sadly  to  their  own  country.  Discipline  and 
the  fierce  passions  of  war  made  them  fight  bravely  in  the 


178 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


hour  of  battle.  But  even  when  victorious  they  wandered 
over  the  field  of  the  slain,  they  could  not  but  wish  that 
they  were  fighting  in  a  better  cause. 

Fitzgerald  saw  something  of  these  rebel  chiefs. 
Colonel  Washington,  our  best  cavalry  officer,  was 
wounded  and  taken  prisoner  at  Eutaw  Springs.  Lord 
Edward,  though  not  recovered  himself,  volunteered  to  take 
charge  of  him  to  Charleston.  As  the  two  wounded  officers 
rode  side  by  side,  Fitzgerald’s  Irish  enthusiasm  could 
hardly  help  feeling  admiration  for  his  prisoner,  who  had 
received  his  scars  fighting  for  his  country.  On  his  death¬ 
bed,  he  alluded  to  his  career  in  America.  A  military  man 
called  to  see  him  in  prison,  who  had  known  him  in 
Charleston,  and  alluded  to  that  period  of  their  lives. 
“Ah!”  said  the  dying  hero,  “I  was  then  wounded  in  a 
very  different  cause ; — that  was  in  fighting  against  liberty 
— this  in  fighting  for  it.” 

It  is  a  curious  fact  that  not  only  Lord  Edward  but  his 
commander,  also  an  Irishman,  should  have  been  found 
afterward  fighting  for  the  liberties  of  their  common  coun¬ 
try.  Lord  Bawdon,  who  led  the  British  armies  in  South 
Carolina,  was  the  same  who  under  the  title  of  Earl  Moira, 
was  for  so  many  years  the  devoted  friend  of  Ireland  both 
in  the  Irish  and  in  the  English  House  of  Lords. 

At  the  close  of  the  war  he  spent  some  months  in  the 
West  Indies,  from  which  he  returned  to  his  native  coun¬ 
try.  In  1786  he  went  to  Woolwich  to  complete  his  mili¬ 
tary  education.  The  following  years  he  traveled  in  Spain, 
visiting  Gibraltar,  Lisbon,  Cadiz,  Granada,  and  Madrid, 
all  which  he  surveyed  with  a  military  eye.  The  Alham- 


SECOND  VISIT  TO  AMERICA. 


179 


bra  transported  him  into  regions  of  Oriental  romance. 
“It  is  in  fact,”  he  says,  “the  palaces  and  gardens  of  the 
Arabian  Nights.” 

He  returned  to  England  to  meet  with  a  disappointment 
which  his  warm  nature  made  him  feel  most  keenly — a  dis¬ 
appointment  in  love.  His  fortune  was  not  sufficient  for 
the  nobleman’s  daughter  whose  hand  he  sought,  or  rather 
for  her  father’s  ambition.  Despairing,  he  sailed  again  for 
America  in  1788,  rejoining  his  regiment  at  St.  John’s  in 
New  Brunswick.  Here  he  seems  to  have  become  enamored 
of  the  wild  life  of  the  woods.  The  immensity  of  the 
forests,  the  lofty  and  dim  aisles  in  which  he  could  wander 
for  days,  without  emerging  into  the  garish  sunlight, 
touched  his  spirit  with  awe.  The  mighty  rivers,  unrippled 
save  by  the  Indian’s  canoe,  or  the  light  dip  of  the  distant 
oar,  taught  his  thoughts  also  to  flow  in  peace.  Thus  Na¬ 
ture,  winning  his  love  by  her  silent  beauty,  made  him  for¬ 
get  the  heart  pain  which  he  had  known  beyond  the  sea.* 

While  in  New  Brunswick,  there  served  under  him  an  ex¬ 
traordinary  man,  afterward  to  be  distinguished  in  another 
sphere,  the  famous  William  Cobbett.  He  says,  “  I  got  my 
discharge  from  the  army  by  the  kindness  of  poor  Lord  Ed¬ 
ward  Fitzgerald,  who  was  then  major  of  my  regiment.” 
He  afterward  bore  this  strong  testimony  to  his  character. 

*  Such  are  the  emotions  of  every  man  of  sensibility  when  transferred 
from  the  feverish  life  of  a  European  capital,  to  the  solitude  of  the  forests  of 
the  New  World.  For  most  beautiful  descriptions  of  these  scenes,  I  may  refer 
the  reader  to  numerous  passages  in  the  travels  of  Humboldt  in  South  Ameri¬ 
ca,  and  to  the  works  of  Chateaubriand,  particularly  to  a  description  of  the 
Cataract  of  Niagara  in  the  Genie  du  Christianisme. 


180 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


In  1800,  lie  dined  one  day  with.  Mr.  Pitt,  who  questioned 
him  respecting  his  former  officer.  He  replied,  “Lord  Ed¬ 
ward  was  a  most  humane  and  excellent  man,  and  the  only 
really  honest  officer  I  ever  knew  in  the  army.” 

Fond  of  adventure,  Fitzgerald  set  out  from  St.  John’s  to 
make  a  winter  march  through  the  woods  to  Quebec.  The 
journey  occupied  thirty  days,  during  twenty-six  of  which 
they  were  in  the  woods,  where  they  saw  not  a  human  being 
but  their  own  party.  From  Quebec  he  proceeded  in  May 
to  Montreal  and  to  the  Falls  of  Niagara.  Here  he  fell  in 
company  with  the  famous  chief,  Joseph  Brant,  whom  he 
accompanied  to  Detroit,  where  he  was  adopted  by  the  In¬ 
dians.  He  was  formally  inducted  into  the  Bear  Tribe,  and 
made  one  of  their  chiefs.  From  Detroit  he  continued  his 
journey  around  the  lakes,  by  Mackinaw,  and  crossing  the 
prairies  to  the  Mississippi,  descended  the  Father  of  waters 
to  New  Orleans.  All  this  is  now  a  very  easy  tour  by  rail¬ 
roads  and  steamboats.  But  in  1789,  when  Lord  Edward 
traversed  it,  he  had  to  wander  through  trackless  forests, 
trusting  to  Indian  guides,  and  sailing  up  and  down  rivers 
in  bark  canoes.  The  undertaking  was  then  little  less  diffi¬ 
cult  than  when  the  Jesuit  missionaries  first  explored  the 
region  of  the  great  lakes  and  the  Mississippi. 

From  New  Orleans  he  wished  to  extend  his  journey 
into  Mexico,  to  visit  the  silver  mines  of  New  Spain.  But 
this  the  Spanish  authorities  would  not  permit.  He  accord¬ 
ingly  sailed  direct  for  England.  Scarcely  had  he  landed 
in  London,  before  Mr.  Pitt  sent  for  him  to  give  information 
in  regard  to  Cadiz,  which  he  had  visited  dining  his  tour  in 
Spain.  His  information  was  exact,  and  showed  that  he 


IN  THE  SOCIETY  OF  LONDON. 


181 


had  surveyed  its  fortifications  with  the  quick  eye  of  a  sol¬ 
dier.  Pitt  nominated  him  on  the  spot  to  command  an  ex¬ 
pedition  against  that  city,  from  which  he  was  deterred  only 
by  hearing  soon  after  that  the  Duke  of  Leinster  had  re¬ 
turned  him  as  a  member  of  the  Irish  parliament. 

The  society  into  which  he  now  entered  tended  to  give 
a  liberal  direction  to  his  political  views.  In  the  higher 
circles  of  London  he  was  thrown  much  with  the  Whigs. 
In  the  brilliant  drawing-rooms  of  Holland  House  he  held 
converse  with  the  finest  intellects  of  England.  There  Fox’s 
earnest,  hearty  support  of  liberal  principles  appealed  to  all 
the  generous  impulses  of  his  Irish  heart.  There  Sheridan’s 
wit,  flashing  brighter  as  the  night  drew  on,  made  the  soci¬ 
ety  of  the  hoary-headed  Tories  seem  flat  and  dull.  Fitz¬ 
gerald’s  imagination  was  caught  by  thus  seeing  his  politi¬ 
cal  principles  presented  with  the  attractions  of  eloquence, 
and  allied  with  all  that  was  most  fascinating  in  social  life. 

And  now  there  was  a  wonder  in  the  world.  France  had 
burst  out  into  a  revolution.  The  most  ancient  monarchy 
in  Europe  had  sunk  as  by  an  earthquake,  and  a  young  re¬ 
public  starting  from  the  earth,  had  begun  to  run  the  career 
of  liberty.  Lord  Edward,  unwilling  to  lose  a  scene  of  such 
excitement,  hastened  over  to  Paris.  He  soon  caught  the 
enthusiasm  of  the  new  era.  The  French  were  wild  with 
the  excitement  of  liberty.  Fitzgerald  wrote  home  to  his 
mother :  “  In  the  coffee-houses,  and  play-houses,  every  man 
calls  the  other  camarade,  frere,  and  with  a  stranger  immedi¬ 
ately  begins,  ‘Ah!  nous  sommes  tous  fr fires,  tous  hommes, 
nos  victoires  sont  pour  vous,  pour  tout  le  monde.’  In 
short,  all  the  good,  enthusiastic  French  sentiments  seem  to 


182 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


come  out,  while  to  appearance,  one  would  say,  they  had 
lost  all  their  bad.”  In  Paris  he  became  acquainted  with 
La  Fayette,  and  others  distinguished  for  their  exertions  in 
the  cause  of  liberty,  whose  ardor  speedily  communicated 
to  his  own  breast. 

He  soon  became  a  republican.  It  was  reported  in  Eng¬ 
land  that  in  the  ardor  of  his  new  opinions,  he  had  re¬ 
nounced  his  title,  and  in  consequence  he  was  dismissed 
from  the  army,  a  circumstance  which  by  no  means  dimin¬ 
ished  his- ardor  for  the  principles  of  liberty. 

His  attachment  to  the  popular  cause  was  soon  strength¬ 
ened  by  a  new  bond.  One  evening  at  the  theater,  he  ob¬ 
served  in  a  box  near  him,  a  young  lady  with  whose  face 
he  was  very  much  struck.  It  was  of  remarkable  beauty, 
and  it  riveted  his  attention  the  more  because  of  its  resem¬ 
blance  to  the  face  of  a  lady  to  whom  he  had  been  attached, 
and  who  had  been  some  months  dead.  On  inquiry  he 
learned  that  she  was  Pamela,  the  adopted  daughter  of  Ma¬ 
dame  de  Genlis,  and,  as  is  now  well  known,  her  actual 
daughter  by  the  Duke  of  Orleans.  She  was  thus  the  half- 
sister  of  Louis  Philippe.  He  had  often  heard  of  her  beauty 
in  London,  where  she  had  visited  with  her  mother  at  the 
house  of  Mr.  Sheridan.  He  had  then  declined  going  to  see 
her,  from  a  disinclination  to  the  society  of  literary  women. 
But  one  sight  of  her  face  dispelled  all  prejudices.  He  im¬ 
mediately  sought  an  introduction.  He  found  the  beauty 
of  her  face  more  than  equaled  by  the  charms  of  her  mind. 
Love  is  a  fruit  which  ripens  fast  in  ardent  natures.  His 
attachment  strengthened  every  day.  The  stain  of  her 
birth  might  have  raised  scruples  in  a  less  generous  mind. 


MARRIAGE. 


183 


But  no  sooner  was  his  heart  satisfied,  than  he  offered  her 
his  hand  with  the  frankness  of  a  soldier.  In  less  than  a 
month  from  their  first  meeting  at  Paris  they  were  united 
for  life,  Louis  Philippe  being  one  of  the  witnesses  of  the 
ceremony. 

This  marriage  was  productive  of  unalloyed  happiness. 
On  his  wife  he  lavished  all  the  affection  of  his  warm  heart. 
Her  confiding  disposition,  and  her  French  vivacity  of  man¬ 
ner,  were  to  him  sources  of  constant  delight.  He  was  proud 
of  her.  Ilis  eye  followed  her  with  rapture  as  she  mingled 
in  the  dance,  the  soul  of  society.  Never  was  there  a  fonder 
husband.  And  when  he  was  a  father,  his  happiness  was 
complete.  His  greatest  pleasure  was  to  see  his  child  in  its 
mother’s  arms. 

These  were  happy  days.  He  took  his  bride  to  his 
home  in  Ireland.  Now  he  busied  himself  laying  out  his 
grounds,  his  walks,  his  bowers — every  improvement  more 
sweet  from  the  thought  of  her  who  should  share  his  happi¬ 
ness.  Here  he  promised  himself  peace.  Sweet  vision  of 
happiness !  too  bright  to  last ! 

In  January,  1793,  we  find  Lord  Edward  in  Dublin, 
resuming  his  duties  in  Parliament.  He  now  had  a  political 
station  and  pohtical  duties.  He  did  not  often  speak.  He 
was  no  talker.  Sometimes,  when  his  indignation  was 
aroused  by  some  act  of  injustice,  his  feelings  burst  forth 
in  the  bold  language  of  a  soldier.  Thus,  when  the  House 
was  about  to  vote  one  of  its  obsequious  addresses  to  the 
Lord  Lieutenant,  approving  his  violent  measures  for 
putting  down  the  Irish  Volunteers,  Fitzgerald  sprang  to 
his  feet,  exclaiming  with  great  energy,  “Sir,  I  give  my 


184 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


most  hearty  disapprobation  to  this  address,  for  I  do  think 
the  Lord  Lieutenant  and  the  majority  of  this  House  are 
the  worst  subjects  the  King  has.”  Instantly  the  house  was 
in  an  uproar.  Cries,  “  To  the  bar,”  “  Take  down  his 
words,”  resounded  from  all  sides.  The  galleries  were 
cleared  of  strangers,  and  the  House  in  close  session  spent 
nearly  three  hours  in  trying  to  bring  the  audacious  member 
to  repentance.  But  all  they  could  get  out  of  him  was 
rather  a  tame  expression  of  regret  that  he  had  given 
offense,  coupled  with  a  not  very  ambiguous  intimation  that 
what  he  had  said  was  true.* 

He  soon  became  disgusted  with  the  petty  politics 
of  the  House  of  Commons.  The  legislation  was  a  farce. 
Reason,  justice,  appeals  to  patriotism,  all  were  lost  on  a 
slavish  majority,  hired  to  vote  as  their  master  pleased. 
Fitzgerald  saw  that  the  breath  of  orators  and  patriots  was 
spent  in  vain. 

From  this  the  step  was  easy  to  joining  in  a  plot  against 
the  government.  In  1795  the  United  Irishmen  were  re¬ 
organized  into  a  secret  society,  with  the  undisguised  object 
of  revolution.  Lord  Edward  became  a  member,  and  soon 
exerted  great  influence  in  its  councils.  The  following  year 
he  went  with  Arthur  O’Connor,  as  a  deputation  from  the 
United  Irishmen,  to  Switzerland,  and  there,  on  the  frontier 
of  France,  had  an  interview  with  Hoche,  who  was  about 
to  undertake  the  invasion  of  Ireland.  They  carried  with 
them  an  explicit  pledge  that  the  expenses  of  the  expedition 

*  Grattan  bad  spoken  in  almost  as  bold  a  tone.  He  bad  said,  “  The 
friends  of  the  administration  are  in  fact  the  ringleaders  of  sedition  placed  in 
authority.” 


APPOINTED  COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF.  185 


should  be  reimbursed;  that  the  troops,  while  acting  in 
Ireland,  should  receive  Irish  pay  ;  and  insisted  in  return, 
on  the  condition  that  the  French  should  come  not  as  con¬ 
querors,  but  only  as  allies,  and  to  act  under  the  direction 
of  the  new  government,  as  Rochambeau  had  done  in 
America. 

There  was  no  man  in  Ireland  at  this  time  whose  name 
excited  so  much  enthusiasm  as  Fitzgerald’s.  “  I  remem¬ 
ber,”  says  Moore,  “  as  if  it  had  been  but  yesterday,  having 
once  seen  him  in  the  year  1797,  in  Grafton  Street;  when 
on  being  told  who  he  was,  as  he  passed,  I  ran  anxiously 
after  him,  desirous  of  another  look  at  one  whose  name 
had,  from  my  school-boy  days,  been  associated  in  my 
mind  with  all  that  was  noble,  patriotic,  and  chivalrous. 
Though  I  saw  him  but  this  once,  his  peculiar  dress,  the 
elastic  lightness  of  his  step,  his  fresh,  healthful  complexion, 
and  the  soft  expression  given  to  his  eyes  by  their  long, 
dark  eyelashes,  are  as  present  and  familiar  to  my  memory 
as  if  I  had  intimately  known  him.” 

When  the  United  Irish  Society  was  turned  into  a 
military  organization,  Lord  Edward  instantly  occurred  to 
all  as  the  commander-in-chief.  It  was  important  to  have 
some  one  at  the  head  whose  name  was  widely  known,  and 
whose  patriotism  and  capacity  were  undoubted.  The 
family  of  Fitzgerald  had  always  been  distinguished  for 
their  devotion  to  their  country ;  a  devotion  which  had 
gained  for  them  in  return  the  unbounded  confidence  of  the 
nation.  In  addition  to  this  hereditary  patriotism,  Lord 
Edward  had  evinced  from  youth  the  most  enthusiastic  love 


186 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


of  liis  country.  He  loved  her  people.  And  no  man  ever 
had  greater  power  of  attaching  others  to  himself.  His 
amiable,  social  qualities  endeared  him  to  all  hearts.  He 
was  formed  by  nature  for  a  popular  leader.  He  loved 
liberty,  and  abhorred  oppression.  He  had  a  hearty  love  of 
truth  and  justice.  This  was  shown  in  his  espousing  the 
cause  of  the  people  when  his  interests  clearly  led  the  other 
way.  His  high  -rank,  his  ancient  name,  added  to  his  per¬ 
sonal  distinction,  opened  to  him  the  most  brilliant  prospects 
of  advancement.  But  he  sacrificed  them  all  to  the  noble 
ambition  of  liberating  his  country.  If  he  could  not  rise 
with  the  land  of  his  birth,  he  at  least  would  not  rise  upon 
her  ruins. 

But  aside  from  this  patriotic  ardor  in  the  cause,  Lord 
Edward  had  every  qualification  for  a  military  leader.  His 
mind  was  clear  and  straightforward.  His  modesty  con¬ 
cealed  from  all  but  those  who  knew  him  intimately,  the 
real  force  of  his  intellect.  MclSTeven  says,  “  Lord  Edward 
Fitzgerald  had  a  great  deal  more  of  mind,  than  is  generally 
imagined  by  those  who  are  supposed  to  be  conversant  with 
the  history  of  those  times.”  He  had  decidedly  great 
talents  in  war.  His  military  plans  were  drawn  up  with 
consummate  skill.  They  showed  a  degree  of  coolness  and 
prudence  hardly  to  have  been  expected  from  his  impet¬ 
uous  character.  In  the  thickest  fight  he  never  lost  his 
presence  of  mind.  He  was  as  cool  as  he  was  brave.  He 
sat  on  his  horse  under  the  enemy’s  fire  as  calmly  as  if 
drawn  up  on  parade.  His  eye  was  everywhere,  quick  to 
detect  any  error  in  the  enemy’s  dispositions.  Agile  as  a 
leopard,  he  only  waited  the  moment  to  charge,  and  then 


HIS  MILITARY  TALENTS. 


187 


rushed  into  the  smoke  of  battle  with  a  heart  as  intrepid  as 
ever  beat  in  a  human  bosom. 

The  gentleness  of  his  manners  might  prevent  a  casual 
observer  from  remarking  the  strength  of  character  which 
lay  underneath.  But  he  was  well  known  among  his  friends 
for  a  firmness  which  they  sometimes  accounted  obstinacy.* 
He  had  that  strong  will,  which  perseveres  through  many 
defeats  to  ultimate  victory. 

He  had  received  a  thorough  military  education.  He 
had  entered  the  army  when  very  young,  and  for  several 
years  had  been  engaged  in  actual  war.  He  was  now  in 
the  prime  of  manhood.  All  these  qualities  pointed  out 
this  young  nobleman  as  the  man  best  fitted  to  lead  the 
armies  of  the  rebellion. 

He  accepted  the  dangerous  post,  and  bent  his  mind  to 
perfecting  the  military  arrangements.  He  selected  for  his 
officers  men  distinguished  either  for  military  skill,  or  for 
their  local  influence.  The  vast  league  of  societies  fur¬ 
nished  soldiers,  and  thus  Lord  Edward  found  himself  at 
the  head  of  an  army  of  five  hundred  thousand  men. 

On  his  arrest  there  was  found  among  his  papers  a  plan 

*  la  the  examination  afterward  of  the  state-prisoners  before  the  Secret 
Committee  of  the  House  of  Commons,  the  character  of  Fitzgerald  was  much 
discussed. 

“  I  knew  Lord  Edward  well,”  said  one  of  the  committee,  “  and  always 
found  him  very  obstinate.” 

“  I  knew  Lord  Edward  right  well,”  replied  Mr.  Emmet,  “  and  have  done 
a  great  deal  of  business  with  him,  and  have  always  found,  when  he  had  a 
reliance  on  the  integrity  and  talents  of  the  person  he  acted  with,  he  was  one 
of  the  most  persuadable  men  alive ;  but  if  he  thought  a  man  meant  dis¬ 
honestly  or  unfairly  by  him,  he  was  as  obstinate  as  a  mule.” 


188 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


for  the  defense  of  a  city  against  disciplined  troops.  He 
details  the  advantages  which  the  insurgents  would  have  in 
such  an  encounter : — “  The  troops,  by  the  breadth  of  the 
streets,  are  obliged  to  have  a  very  narrow  front,  and  how¬ 
ever  numerous,  only  three  men  deep  can  be  brought  into 
action,  which  in  the  widest  of  our  streets  can  not  be  more 
than  sixty  men ;  as  a  space  must  be  left  on  each  side  or 
flank,  for  the  men  who  discharge  to  retreat  to  the  rear, 
that  their  places  may  be  occupied  by  the  next  in  succes¬ 
sion  who  are  loaded  ;  so  though  there  are  a  thousand  men 
in  a  street,  not  more  than  sixty  can  act  at  one  time,  and 
should  they  be  attacked  by  an  irregular  body  armed  with 
pikes  or  such  bold  weapons,  if  the  sixty  men  in  front  were 
defeated,  the  whole  body,  however  numerous  are  unable 
to  assist,  and  immediately  become  a  small  mob  in  uniform, 
from  the  inferiority  of  their  number  in  comparison  to  the 
people,  and  easily  disposed  of. 

“Another  disadvantage  on  the  part  of  the  soldiers 
would  be,  that,  as  they  are  regulated  by  the  word  of  com¬ 
mand,  or  stroke  of  the  drum,  they  must  be  left  to  their  in¬ 
dividual  discretion,  as  such  communications  must  be 
drowned  in  the  noise  and  clamor  of  a  popular  tumult.” 

He  details  the  means  to  be  employed  to  oppose  the 
progress  of  an  army  through  a  city.  The  pavements  can 
be  torn  up  and  barricades  formed  at  near  distances,  to 
check  the  advance  of  horse  or  artillery.  By  this  means 
their  progress  must  be  very  slow.  At  the  same  time  they 
can  be  assailed  by  a  fire  from  the  windows,  while  showers 
of  bricks  or  coping-stones  can  be  poured  down  from  the 


HIS  MILITARY  TACTICS. 


189 


roofs.  Simultaneously  tlie  country  should  rise  in  the  rear,' 
and  cut  off  their  retreat. 

“  The  people  would  have  an  advantage  by  being  armed 
with  pikes.  The  first  attack  if  possible  should  be  made 
by  men  whose  pikes  were  nine  or  ten  feet  long ;  by  that 
means  they  could  act  in  ranks  deeper  than  the  soldiery, 
whose  arms  are  much  shorter ;  then  the  deep  files  of  the 
pikemen,  by  being  weightier,  must  easily  break  the  thin 
order  of  the  army. 

“  The  charge  of  the  pikemen  should  be  made  in  a 
smart  trot.  On  the  extremity  of  every  rank  should  be 
placed  intrepid  men  to  keep  the  fronts  even,  that  at  clos¬ 
ing  every  point  should  tell  together.  They  should  have 
at  the  same  time  two  or  three  like  bodies  at  convenient 
distances  in  the  rear,  who  would  be  brought  up,  if  want¬ 
ing,  to  support  the  front,  which  would  give  confidence  to 
their  brothers  in  action,  as  it  would  tend  to  discourage  the 
enemy.  At  the  same  time  there  should  be  in  the  rear  of 
each  division  some  men  of  spirit  to  keep  the  ranks  as  close 
as  -possible. 

“  The  apparent  strength  of  the  army  should  not  intimi¬ 
date,  as  closing  on  it  makes  its  powder  and  ball  useless : 
all  its  superiority  is  in  fighting  at  a  distance ;  its  skill 
ceases,  and  its  action  must  be  suspended,  when  it  once  is 
within  reach  of  the  pike.” 

In  his  tactics  for  the  general  conduct  of  the  war  he 
showed  great  coolness  and  sagacity.  His  policy  was,  not 
to  lead  raw  troops  into  immediate  battle,  but  to  accustom 
them  gradually  to  arms,  and  bring  them  into  the  enemy’s 
fire  as  they  were  able  to  bear  it.  In  conducting  a  popular 


190 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


insurrection,  tlie  principal  danger  is  from  tire  impetuosit1 
and  disorder  of  the  people,  rushing  on  eagerly  and  confu 
sedly,  and  of  course  being  easily  defeated.  Said  Welling  | 
ton,  when  conducting  the  war  in  the  Peninsula,  “Th< 
Juntas  called  out  for  a  battle  and  early  success.  If  I  hac 
had  the  power,  I  would  have  prevented  the  Spanish  armie; 
from  attending  to  this  call ;  and  if  I  had,  the  cause  would 
now  have  been  safe.” 

Lord  Edward’s  tactics  were  therefore  to  avoid  pitched 
battles,  especially  in  the  beginning  of  the  war  ;  to  keep  to 
the  hills,  and  thus  watch  and  weary  the  enemy,  while  col¬ 
lecting  strength  for  the  fatal  blow. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


Thomas  Addis  Emmet.* — The  three  Brothers. — His  Education. — Studies 
Medicine  at  Edinrurgh. — Travels  on  the  Continent. — Adopts  the 
Profession  of  Law. — Commences  Practice  in  Dublin. — The  State  Tri¬ 
als.— He  takes  the  Oath  of  the  United  Irishmen  in  open  Court. — In¬ 
timacy  with  Tone. — Joins  the  Society. — Is  chosen  one  of  the  Directors. 

It  is  one  design  of  this  volume  to  trace  particularly  the 
part  borne  in  the  projected  Irish  revolution  by  the  exiles  to 
America.  We  may  break  the  current  of  the  narrative  to 
furnish  some  details  of  particular  actors  in  these  scenes,  in 
the  fate  of  whom  the  American  reader  may  be  supposed  to 
feel  particular  interest. 

The  leaders  of  the  United  Irishmen  were  now  collected 
in  Dublin.  Among  them  were  three,  whose  names  are 
familiar,  as  fortune  afterward  threw  them  together  on  the 
shores  of  the  new  world,  Emmet,  McNeven,  and  Sampson. 
They  came  from  the  opposite  extremes  of  the  island,  from 
three  different  provinces,  Munster,  Connaught,  and  Ulster. 

Of  Thomas  Addis  Emmet,  we  have  already  had  occa- 

*  This  sketch  of  Emmet  is  derived  chiefly  from  a  memoir  by  Charles 
Glidden  Haines.  It  is  a  thin  volume,  and  was  published  in  1829.  The 
facts  were  drawn  from  Mr.  Emmet  himself,  with  whom  Mr.  Haines  wa3 
thrown  during  the  sittings  of  the  Supreme  Court  at  Washington. 


192  THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


sion  to  speak  as  tlie  associate  of  Tone.  He  was  born  in 
Cork,  April  24tli,  1764.  He  was  one  of  three  brothers, 
all  distinguished,  but  both  the  others  cut  down  in  the  prime 
of  manhood.  His  elder  brother,  Temple,  was  a  barrister, 
and  had  greatly  distinguished  himself  at  the  bar.  Thomas 
Addis  was  accustomed  to  speak  of  him  as  one  of  the  first 
men  that  Ireland  had  ever  produced,  and  liis  early  death 
was  to  him  always  matter  of  painful  remembrance.  The 
fate  of  the  younger  brother  Robert  was  still  more  melan¬ 
choly. 

The  parents  of  Emmet  were  affluent,  and  bestowed  upon 
their  son  every  advantage  of  education.  He  was  trained  to 
all  manly  exercises  as  well  as  taught  from  books.  His 
frame  was  developed  in  field-sports.  He  was  fond  of  hunt¬ 
ing,  and  was  a  very  expert  horseman. 

His  father  was  an  eminent  physician,  and  as  his  eldest ;  1 
son  had  chosen  the  bar,  he  destined  Thomas  for  his  own 
profession.  Accordingly,  after  being  graduated  with  honor 
at  Trinity  College,  Dublin,  he  was  sent  to  Edinburgh  to 
pursue  his  medical  studies.  Here  he  remained  four  years, 
during  which  he  was  the  fellow-student  of  Sir  James  Mac¬ 
kintosh,  and  the  intimate  acquaintance  of  Dugald  Stewart. 

So  great  was  his  popularity  with  his  fellow-students,  that 
at  one  time  he  was  president  of  five  literary,  scientific,  and 
medical  societies.  From  Edinburgh  he  went  to  the  con¬ 
tinent,  traveling  in  France,  Germany,  and  Italy,  and  visit¬ 
ing  the  most  celebrated  schools  of  medicine.  On  his  return 
through  London,  he  saw  his  friend,  Sir  James  Mackintosh, 
whose  advice  determined  him  to  change  his  profession  for 
that  of  the  law.  He  accordingly  studied  at  the  Temple  two 


ADOPTS  THE  PROFESSION  OF  LAW.  193 


jrears,  and  attended  the  courts  at  Westminster,  where  he 
Dfifcen  heard  the  great  advocate  Erskine.  He  was  admitted 
;o  the  bar  in  Dublin,  in  1790.  At  this  tune  the  Irish  bar 
presented  an  extraordinary  array  of  talent.  The  courts 
,vere  accustomed  to  the  eloquence  of  Curran,  and  of  others 
only  second  to  him.  Emmet  became  immediately  their 
;ompanion  on  their  circuits,  and  their  competitor.  He 
non  distinguished  himself  as  an  advocate,  and  if  he  had 
lot  the  versatile  genius  of  Curran,  it  was  the  opinion  of 
many  that  in  legal  attainments  he  was  his  superior.  The 
ttorneys  of  Dublin  told  McNeven  that  Thomas  Addis  Em- 
iiet  had  few  if  any  superiors  at  the  bar. 

In  1796,  the  Irish  courts  became  engrossed  with  the 
tate  trials.  These  prosecutions  cowed  the  timid,  and  those 
,rho  thought  more  of  personal  safety  than  of  the  deliver- 
nce  of  their  country.  But  in  every  true  Irish  heart  they 
ailed  out  all  that  was  noble  and  brave.  The  sympathy  of 
le  nation  was  with  the  defenders  of  the  United  Irishmen, 
lough  on  the  side  of  their  oppressors  there  was  power.  It 
as  on  these  trials  that  Curran  made  his  greatest  efforts, 
id  secured  the  gratitude  and  affection  of  his  country, 
mmet  was  another  of  the  noble  few  that  in  that  hour  of 
anger,  stood  in  “  the  imminent,  deadly  breach.”  To  put 
iwn  the  United  Irish  Society,  a  law  had  been  passed, 
aking  it  a  capital  crime  to  take  or  to  administer  an  illegal 
ath.  In  one  case  in  which  a  conviction  had  been  obtained, 
mmet  appeared  on  a  motion  in  arrest  of  judgment.  He 
'  ildly  defended  the  principles  of  the  United  Irishmen,  and 
ading  aloud  with  a  grave  voice  the  oath  of  which  the 
•isoners  had  been  convicted,  he  exclaimed  with  the  deep- 
I 


194 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


est  solemnity: — “My  lords — here  in  the  presence  of  thi 
legal  court — this  crowded  auditory — in  the  presence  of  thi 
Being  that  sees  and  witnesses,  and  directs  this  judicial  tri 
bunal — here,  my  lords,  I  myself,  in  the  presence  of  God 
declare,  I  take  the  oath.” 

He  then  took  the  book  that  was  on  the  table,  kissed  it 
and  sat  down.  The  court  did  not  arrest  him.  They  wer< 
in  too  great  amazement  to  do  any  thing,  and  the  prison 
ers  received  a  lenient  sentence. 

It  is  remarkable  that,  without  any  knowledge  of  thi. 
occurrence,  Sampson,  in  another  part  of  the  kingdom,  ka( 
taken  the  oath  in  the  same  way  in  open  court. 

Emmet  and  Tone  had  commenced  the  practice  of  law  ii 
Dublin  about  the  same  time.  They  soon  became  intimate 
Their  political  opinions  accorded  perfectly.  Emmet  die 
not,  however,  join  the  United  Irish  Society  until  1796 
He  hoped  for  peaceful  reforms,  till  there  was  no  longe 
any  room  for  hope.  He  then  turned  to  the  painful  altei 
native  of  revolution. 

No  man  was  less  formed  for  a  conspirator.  He  was  no 
restless  by  nature.  He  had  a  large,  calm  mind,  which,  uc 
less  powerfully  excited,  maintained  an  attitude  of  philc 
sophical  repose.  He  could  not  stoop  to  be  an  intriguer , 
nor  had  he  the  motives  which  might  spur  on  inferior  mei 
to  desperate  enterprises  in  the  hope  to  raise  themselves  b; 
revolution.  He  was  already  in  possession  of  wide  fame 
His  great  talents  were  known  to  the  nation,  and  if  he  chos' 
to  join  the  party  in  power,  there  was  no  station  in  Irelant 
which  he  might  not  hope  to  reach.  But  the  gloom  tha 
overshadowed  his  country,  pressed  upon  his  spirits.  Othe 


A  MEMBER  OF  THE  DIRECTORY. 


195 


nations  had  awaked  from  the  sleep  of  ages,  and  were  run¬ 
ning  a  career  of  improvement  and  glory.  America  was 
free ;  France  was  free ;  but  Ireland  was  still  in  bondage. 
He  saw  around  him  a  people  with  the  finest  faculties  in  the 
world,  and  the  noblest  hearts,  yet  all  crushed  and  broken 
by  the  poverty  and  oppression  in  which  they  lived.  He 
thought  upon  it  long,  and  at  last  concluded  that  there  was 
no  hope  for  Ireland,  but  to  make  one  bold  effort  to  break 
her  chains. 

At  a  later  day,  when  he  was  examined  before  the  secret 
committee  of  the  House  of  Lords,  Lord  Clare  said  to  him, 
“Well,  I  can  not  conceive  the  separation  could  last  twelve 
hours.” 

“  I  declare  it  to  God,”  replied  Emmet,  “  I  think  that  if 
Ireland  were  separated  from  England,  she  would  be  the 
happiest  spot  on  the  face  of  the  globe.” 

At  which,  he  says,  they  all  seemed  astonished. 

The  next  year  after  Emmet  joined  the  United  Irish  So¬ 
ciety,  he  was  elected  a  member  of  the  Directory.  In  this 
position  he  had  great  influence.  While  Fitzgerald  was  the 
military  leader,  Emmet  was  perhaps  the  principal  man  in 
the  cabinet.  From  his  high  position,  even  party  malice 
hardly  dared  to  breathe  a  suspicion  against  him.  And  yet 
in  secret  he  was  directing  the  conspiracy  throughout  Ire¬ 
land. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

■William  James  McNeven.* — A  Connaught  Man. — Educated  at  Prague  and 
Vienna. —  Settles  as  a  Physician  in  Dublin. —  Bold  Conduct  in  the 
Catholic  Convention. — Interview  with  an  Emissary  from  France. — 
Sent  on  a  Mission  to  Paris. 

Akother  member  of  the  Directory,  whose  eventful 
life  at  last  ended  in  the  New  World,  was  Dr.  William 
James  MdSTeven.  He  was  born  at  Bally nahowne,  in  the 
county  of  Galway,  March  21st,  1763.  His  ancestors  had 
large  estates  in  the  north  of  Ireland,  but  were  of  the  num¬ 
ber  of  Catholic  families  who  were  dispossessed  by  Crom¬ 
well,  and  driven  into  the  wilds  of  Connaught.  This  en¬ 
tailed  in  the  family  an  hereditary  hatred  of  oppression. 
Young  McNeven  was  brought  up  within  a  mile  of  the  field 

*  For  the  materials  of  this  sketch  I  am  indebted  to  the  Lives  and  Times 
of  the  United  Irishmen,  by  R.  R.  Madden,  M.D.,  Second  Series,  published 
in  London  in  1843.  These  volumes  are  a  sign  of  returning  justice.  Publish¬ 
ed  after  a  lapse  of  more  than  forty  years,  they  contain  a  calm  review  of  the 
principles  and  acts  of  the  United  Irishmen.  A  compilation  of  individual  i 
memoirs,  each  of  which  traverses  the  same  period,  standing  side  by  side  like 
parallel  columns,  of  course  can  not  have  the  sustained  interest  of  a  continuous 
history  in  which  the  action  moves  forward  steadily  to  one  general  result. 
The  facts  however  embodied  in  this  collection  are  of  great  value,  and  the 
author  deserves  well  of  his  country  for  the  industry  with  which  he  has  gath¬ 
ered  these  memorials  of  her  Revolutionary  leaders. 


EDUCATED  AT  PRAGUE. 


19? 


of  Aughrim,  on  which  liad  been  fought  less  than  eighty 
years  before,  a  memorable  battle  between  the  forces  of 
James  the  Second  and  William.  Sporting  when  a  boy 
over  the  green  sods  that  had  drunk  streams  of  Irish  blood, 
his  thoughts  were  turned  even  then  to  the  unhappy  rela¬ 
tion  of  his  country  to  England. 

At  this  time  it  was  difficult  for  a  Catholic  to  obtain  an 
education  in  Ireland  from  the  restrictions  of  the  penal 
laws,  and  young  men  of  family  or  fortune  were  commonly 
sent  abroad.  McNeven  had  an  uncle  who  had  resided 
many  years  at  Prague,  and  who  had  risen  to  such  emi¬ 
nence  as  to  be  appointed  physician  to  the  Empress-queen 
Maria  Theresa.  He  had  received  the  title  of  Baron,  and 
married  a  lady  of  rank  and  fortune,  and  was  settled  per¬ 
manently  in  that  ancient  capital.  He  sent  for  his  nephew, 
when  but  ten  years  old,  to  come  and  live  with  him,  and 
pursue  his  education  in  Germany.  An  Irish  officer  who 
was  in  the  Austrian  service,  happened  to  be  then  visiting 
his  relations  in  Ireland,  and  when  he  returned  to  the  con¬ 
tinent  McNeven  was  sent  under  his  charge.  In  passing 
through  Dublin  he  relates  that  he  saw  two  fine-looking 
men  brought  from  a  backyard,  and  handcuffed  before  his 
face.  He  learned  that  they  were  American  prisoners,  and 
he  heard  them  say,  Though  their  own  lot  was  a  hard  one, 
they  would  be  happy  to  meet  the  enemy  another  time  on 
Bunker’s  Hill.  “  This  incident,”  he  says,  “  awoke  my  at¬ 
tention  to  the  events  of  the  American  war,  and  made  me  a 
willing  reader  of  the  English  papers  in  my  uncle’s  circle, 
when  they  brought  us  the  glories  of  Washington,  and  the 
defeats  of  the  British  army.” 


198 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


In  the  family  of  his  uncle  eight  years  passed  swiftly 
away.  During  the  winter  Baron  MdSTeyen  resided  in 
Prague,  where  his  house  was  frequented  by  men  of  science, 
and  the  best  society  of  the  capital.  In  the  summer  he 
occupied  an  old  castle  on  the  river  Seva,  about  sixty  miles 
from  the  city.  lie  took  pains  to  give  his  nephew  the  most 
thorough  classical  and  professional  education.  After  pass¬ 
ing  through  the  College  and  Medical  School  of  Prague,  he 
completed  his  professional  studies  at  Vienna  in  1783.  He 
then  returned  to  Ireland,  and  commenced  the  practice  of 
medicine  in  Dublin  the  following  year. 

McNeven  was  a  Catholic,  and  he  soon  became  inter¬ 
ested  in  the  effort  to  obtain  for  his  brethren  equal  rights 
with  the  Protestants.  Though  a  very  young  man,  he  was 
appointed  one  of  the  Catholic  Committee,  a  small  body 
which  occasionally  met  in  Dublin,  and  which  pretended  in 
a  feeble  way  to  look  after  the  interests  of  the  Catholics  of 
Ireland.  But  in  reality  their  principal  business  was,  on 
the  accession  of  a  new  Lord  Lieutenant,  to  present  an  ad¬ 
dress,  declaring  their  loyalty,  but  not  daring  to  demand 
their  rights.  It  was  generally  conceived  in  the  most  ab¬ 
ject  spirit,  and  received  with  neglect  and  contempt.  In 
fact,  until  lately,  the  representative  of  England  had  not  con¬ 
descended  to  make  the  least  reply.  About  this  time  a  new 
viceroy  came  to  Ireland,  and  the  Catholic  committee  drew 
up  their  usual  cringing  speech.  MclSTeven  opposed  it.  He 
declared  that  it  was  unworthy  of  their  honor.  He  was 
ashamed  of  such  sycophancy.  He  had  lived  for  ten  years, 
in  a  country  where  it  was  no  dishonor  to  be  a  Catholic, 
and  he  had  not  yet  learned  to  use  the  tone  of  a  slave. 


BOLD  CONDUCT  IN  THE  CONVENTION.  199 


The  address  was  voted  down.  This  was  almost  the  first 
sign  of  returning  spirit  among  the  Catholics  of  Ireland. 

It  was  shortly  after,  that  assembled  in  Dublin  that 
famous  Catholic  Convention  which  appealed  directly  to 
the  King  of  England  for  justice.  This  was  called  the 
Catholic  Parliament,  and  was  the  first  full  and  strong  rep¬ 
resentation  of  that  portion  of  the  nation.  Of  this  Parlia¬ 
ment  McNeven  was  a  prominent  member.  Here  he  found 
the  same  obsequious  and  timid  spirit.  They  had  now 
ventured  to  ask  a  little  relief,  and  to  pray  his  Majesty  to 
grant  them  a  participation  in  the  elective  franchise. 
McNeven  moved  to  amend  the  petition  so  that  it  should 
read,  an  equal  participation. 

On  this  point  he  spoke  in  the  boldest  tone.  If 
McNeven  could  be  characterized  in  one  word,  it  would  be 
that  of  Truthteller.  His  mind  was  clear.  He  saw  the 
right  and  the  wrong  without  disguise,  and  in  giving  his 
opinion  he  went  straight  to  the  mark.  In  telling  his  mind 
he  was  frank  even  to  bluntness.  He  scorned  subterfuge 
or  evasion.  Nor  did  he  feel  bound  to  be  guarded  in  his 
language  when  denouncing  atrocious  injustice.  He  would 
not  palliate  crime  because  committed  by  a  high  authority. 
The  laws  against  the  Catholics  were  an  outrage  upon  nat¬ 
ural  justice,  and  he  saw  no  reason  why  they  should  not 
be  called  by  their  right  name. 

As  for  that  timid,  hesitating  policy  which  calls  itself 
prudence,  he  knew  nothing  of  it.  He  was  totally  devoid 
of  fear.  In  every  extremity  he  maintained  an  imperturb¬ 
able  coolness  and  self-possession. 

His  speeches  were  distinguished  by  their  plain  sound 


200 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


sense,  and  by  the  earnest  conviction  of  the  truth  and 
justice  of  his  cause  which  they  manifested.  He  urged  the 
Catholics  to  stand  firm  for  their  rights,  and  to  demand 
nothing  less  than  total  emancipation.  The  assembly  was 
animated  by  his  fearless  bearing,  and  soon  caught  the  tone 
of  so  bold  a  leader. 

Such  were  the  sentiments  of  McNeven  in  1792. 
Thirty-seven  years  rolled  away,  and  though  an  exile,  he 
was  yet  alive  to  see  the  glorious  day  when  the  English 
Parliament  granted  full  emancipation  to  the  Catholics  of 
Ireland,  thus  confirming  the  wisdom  and  sagacity  of  that 
policy  which  he  had  so  long  before  demanded,  and  which, 
if  granted  then,  would  have  saved  infinite  treasure  and 
blood. 

Seeing  the  character  of  MdSTeven,  Lord  Edward  Fitz¬ 
gerald  and  Arthur  O’Connor  sought  an  interview  with 
him,  in  which  they  explained  their  designs,  and  requested 
his  co-operation.  He  entered  warmly  into  their  political 
views,  and  joined  the  secret  society  of  the  United  Irish¬ 
men  at  about  the  same  time  with  Emmet.  Lord  Edward’s 
house  appears  to  have  been  the  place  of  reunion  for  all  the 
liberal  spirits  of  the  capital  at  that  period.  One  evening 
intelligence  arrived  that  assistance  might  speedily  be  ex¬ 
pected  from  France.  McNeven  and  Emmet  hastened  with 
the  news  to  the  residence  of  Fitzgerald.  They  found  him 
with  his  wife  and  sister,  and  the  whole  party  conversed 
with  the  greatest  animation  on  the  prospects  before  them, 
the  ladies  entering  with  enthusiasm  into  their  brilliant  an¬ 
ticipations. 

The  courage  of  McNeven  was  put  to  several  severe 


AN  EMISSARY  FROM  FRANCE. 


201 


tests.  At  one  time  an  emissary  from  General  Hoche  and 
Tone  arrived  with  a  message  from  the  United  Irishmen. 
Several  of  the  Directory  were  uneasy  about  receiving  him. 
They  perhaps  remembered  the  affair  of  Cockayne,  and 
were  suspicious  of  a  stranger.  He  might  prove  to  be  a 
spy,  and  this  be  a  snare  for  their  lives.  In  this  perplexity 
McNeven  volunteered  to  hold  the  interview.  He  accord¬ 
ingly  repaired  at  night  to  the  street  in  front  of  the  Post 
Office,  and  walked  up  and  down,  until  the  clock  struck 
eleven,  when  the  agent  emerged  from  the  shadow  of  an 
adjacent  building,  and  joined  him.  They  exchanged 
signals  and  walked  away  together.  McNeven  received 
his  communication  from  France,  and  in  return  gave  him 
full  information  of  the  state  of  affairs  in  Ireland.  The  in¬ 
terview  ended,  McNeven  accompanied  the  emissary  to  the 
quay,  and  saw  him  safely  off  that  night.  This  gentleman 
was  Colonel  McSheehy,  already  mentioned  as  aid-de-camp 
to  General  Tone,  and  who  was  afterward  killed  in  the 
battle  of  Eylau. 

In  July  1797  McNeven  was  employed  on  a  still  more 
dangerous  business — to  go  on  a  mission  to  France.  He 
proceeded  to  Hamburg,  and  requested  of  the  French  min¬ 
ister  a  passport  to  Paris.  The  minister  refused,  alleging 
that  his  instructions  did  not  allow  him  to  give  a  passport 
without  especial  permission  from  his  government.  He 
offered  however  to  forward  any  communication  to  the  Di¬ 
rectory.  McNeven  therefore  drew  up  a  memorial  on  the 
state  of  Ireland  in  which  he  pressed  the  demand  for 
French  assistance.  Eight  months  after,  when  arrested  in 
Dublin,  he  saw  a  copy  of  this  very  dispatch  in  the  hands 


202 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


of  tlie  Irish  government.  There  can  be  little  question  that 
the  French  agent  at  Hamburg  was  in  the  pay  of  Pitt. 
With  such  dangers  were  the  lives  of  the  United  Irishmen 
surrounded!  Two  days  after,  the  minister’s  objections 
gave  way,  and  he  allowed  McN even  to  proceed  on  to  Paris. 
Here  he  communicated  in  person  the  object  of  his  mission. 
At  the  same  time  he  kept  up  a  correspondence  with  Tone, 
then  in  Holland. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

William  Sampson. — Early  Voyage  to  America. — Commences  the  Practice 
of  Law  in  Belfast. — Intimacy  with  Curran. — Anecdotes. — They  are 
employed  together  on  the  State  Trials. — Friendship  of  Lord  Moira. 

William  Sampson  was  not  a  member  of  the  society 
of  United  Irishmen,  but  he  played  a  part  in  the  political 
history  of  his  country  not  less  important  than  Emmet  and 
McNeven,  and  was  their  companion  in  exile.  He  was 
from  the  extreme  north  of  Ireland,  being  a  native  of 
Londonderry,  the  same  city  which  gave  birth  to  Lord 
Castlereagh.  He  was  born  on  the  17th  of  January,  1764, 
thus  differing  but  a  few  months  from  the  age  of  Emmet 
and  McNeven.  His  father  was  a  clergyman  of  London¬ 
derry.  “  On  the  mother’s  side  he  was  connected  with  Mr. 
Dobbs  Spaight,  one  of  the  original  framers  of  the  con¬ 
stitution  of  the  United  States  in  1776;  and  with  the 
eccentric  counselor  Dobbs,  who  believed  that  a  proud 
destiny  of  future  glory  is  predicted  to  Ireland  in  the 
Apocalypse,  and  opposed  the  union  as  inconsistent  with 
St.  John’s  Revelation.” 

At  eighteen  he  held  a  commission  in  the  Irish  Volun¬ 
teers.  About  this  time  he  made  a  vovage  to  America,  to 
visit  an  uncle,  Col.  Sampson,  who  had  settled  in  North 


204 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


Carolina,  and  where  a  county  still  bears  his  name.  Or 
his  return  he  studied  the  profession  of  law.  In  1790  lie 
married  a  Miss  Clarke  of  Belfast ;  and  on  completing  his 
terms  at  Lincoln’s  Inn,  he  commenced  the  practice  of  his 
profession  in  that  city. 

Belfast  at  this  time  took  the  lead  in  the  movement  foi 
reform,  as  it  had  before  in  organizing  the  Irish  Yolunteers, 
Sampson’s  associations  naturally  led  him  to  the  Protestanl 
Ascendency  party.  Londonderry,  his  native  city,  was  dis- 
dinguished  for  its  ultra  Protestantism.  His  father  was  a 
clergyman  of  that  church  which  was  most  closely  bound 
to  England.  His  own  hopes  of  political  advancement  lay 
in  supporting  the  party  in  power.  But  he  could  not  sup¬ 
port  a  government  fatal  to  the  interests  of  his  country- 
He  could  not  uphold  the  corruption  of  Parliament  and  the 
oppression  of  the  Catholics.  And  when  the  government 
undertook  to  put  down  the  United  Irishmen  by  prosecu¬ 
tion,  he  stood  forward  in  their  defense.  It  shocked  him  to 
see  thousands  of  his  countrymen  branded  as  traitors,  and 
holding  their  lives  at  the  will  of  hired  informers,  or  of  a 
crafty  and  cruel  government.  Many  he  knew  to  be  the 
purest  and  most  patriotic  characters  in  the  land ;  and  he 
was  determined  that  they  should  not  be  sacrificed  without 
a  struggle.  He  soon  became  conspicuous  for  his  defense 
of  the  United  Irishmen,  who  were  tried  for  taking  illegal 
oaths.  His  profession  took  him  to  Dublin  during  the  terms 
of  court,  and  here  he  became  the  intimate  friend  of 
Curran.  The  circumstances  of  their  first  acquaintance 
were  amusing.  Sampson  had  been  sitting  in  court  all  day, 
waiting  for  an  opportunity  to  present  some  business,  but 


FRIENDSHIP  WITH  CURRAN. 


205 


doomed  to  listen  to  a  tedious  argument,  which  wearied  out 
his  patience,  and  that  of  the  bar.  He  revenged  himself  by 
an  epigram,  in  which  he  compared  the  learned  counsel  to 
a  sluggish,  slimy  river,  winding  slowly  along,  and  ended 
with  these  doggerel  lines, — 

“  Leaving  nothing  he  could  find 
But  his  client’s  cause  behind.” 

“I  blush  to  think  of  it  at  the  end  of  near  thirty  years,” 
said  Sampson,  “  and  yet  it  was  to  that  folly  that  I  owed 
the  first  acquaintance  with  the  most  interesting  personage  I 
ever  knew.  It  was  snatched  from  me  by  a  waggish  young 
friend  who  sent  it  about;  it  found  its  way  among  the 
senior  counsel  to  Curran,  who,  being  directed  to  the  spot 
it  proceeded  from,  looked  and  met  the  eyes  of  my  betrayer, 
who  seemed  to  acknowledge  the  offense  with  a  modest  air 
of  contrition.  Curran,  when  the  court  rose,  singled  him 
out,  and  introducing  himself  as  a  brother  poetaster,  in¬ 
vited  him  to  spend  the  following  day  at  his  country  house, 
and  lent  him  his  gray  mare  to  go  a  hunting.  The  next 
day  my  friend  thanked  me  in  the  hall  of  the  four  courts 
for  his  entertainment,  saying  he  had  dined  and  hunted  on 
my  epigram.  Curran  summoned  us  both  to  appear  at  a 
future  day,  to  void  the  quarrel,  at  the  Priory,  when  the 
raillery  that  passed  upon  this  little  adventure  made  part  of 
the  entertainment.” 

Another  anecdote  related  by  Sampson,  shows  the  affec¬ 
tionate  nature  of  their  intercourse,  as  well  as  the  sadness 
which  pressed  on  every  true  Irish  heart.  “  It  was  during  the 
summer  circuit  of  1797,  that  having  retired  to  rest  after  a 


206 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


day  of  fatigue  and  anxiety,  I  was  awoke  in  the  night  by 
the  appellation  of  Gossip ;  and  looking  up,  I  saw  on  a 
corner  of  my  bed,  with  his  feet  gathered  up  under  him, 
that  illustrious  orator,  whose  voice  had  a  few  hours  before 
hurled  defiance  at  the  proud,  and  whose  eyes  had  shot 
their  piercing  glances  through  the  guilty  heart.  That 
voice  was  now  soft  and  subdued,  those  eyes  lowly  and 
dejected.  I  looked  at  him  for  a  time,  as  he  did  at  me, 
before  either  spoke.  He  held  a  glimmering  candle  in  his 
hand,  and  his  appearance,  to  say  the  least,  was  picturesque. 

I  would  have  laughed,  but  I  saw  his  heart  was  sad.  He 
at  length  opened  the  object  of  his  visit.  His  mind  was 
full  of  gloomy  presages,  and  he  had  tried  in  vain  to  sleep. 
All  hopes  of  conciliation  were  now  past,  and  nothing  but 
civil  war  could  follow :  crime  on  one  side  must  in  the 
nature  of  things  produce  crimes  upon  the  other ;  the 
country  must  bleed,  and  good  men  fall.  He  had  almost  \  j 
determined  to  retire,  not  only  from  public  life,  but  from  a 
land  still  destined  to  sorrow  and  oppression.  He  put 
before  me  the  dangers  I  was  threatened  with,  and  asked 
me  if  I  would  accompany  him.  I  told  him  that  I  was  now 
sworn  and  pledged,  and  must  stay  and  take  my  chance. 

He  then  asked,  how  much  I  thought  one  of  his  unostenta¬ 
tious  habits  could  live  for  in  France,  so  as  not  to  be  posi¬ 
tively  excluded  from  good  company.  I  told  him  I  thought 
a  colonel’s  half-pay  might  do ;  and  if  he  would  brush  his 
own  coat,  and  turn  his  cravat  the  second  day,  have  the 
court  calendar  by  heart,  and  talk  of  his  noble  friends  and 
relations,  he  might  come  near  the  fag  end  of  the  nobility. 

If  he  could  produce  his  passport  now  I  would  countersign 


IS  EMPLOYED  IN  THE  STATE  TRIALS.  207 


it,  and  then  would  recommend  to  him  to  go  to  sleep,  that 
he  might  be  ready  for  his  journey  in  the  morning,  and  in 
the  mean  time  leave  me  to  my  rest.  1  He  took  this  in  good 
part,  made  a  flourish  with  his  tongue  to  show  he  under¬ 
stood  me,  and  went  off  without  more  words,  but  sending 
me  back  a  look  of  the  Irish  school  of  eloquence,  which  the 
wit  of  man  is  not  equal  to  translate.  The  next  morning 
he  thanked  me  for  having  made  him  laugh ;  and  promised 
as  much  for  me,  when  it  was  my  turn  of  the  blue  devils. 
But  he  had  not  relinquished  his  project,  and  I  think  if  I 
had  accompanied,  or  even  encouraged  him,  he  would  have 
put  it  in  execution.”* 

In  above  a  hundred  of  the  state  trials,  Curran  and 
Sampson  were  engaged  as  counsel  together.  They  were 
associated  in  the  memorable  case  of  Orr,  the  tragical  result 
of  which  excited  such  indignation  throughout  Ireland. 
ISTeither  of  them  however  ever  joined  the  United  Irish 
Society,  though  they  knew  what  was  going  on.  But  in  the 
great  work  of  resisting  a  tyrannical  government,  there 
must  be  a  division  of  labor.  While  therefore  Emmet  was 
a  leader  in  the  cabinet,  and  Fitzgerald  in  the  military  ar¬ 
rangements,  Curran  and  Sampson  could  serve  the  popular 
cause  better  by  appearing  as  the  public  defenders  of  the 
United  Irishmen  when  their  lives  were  in  danger.  To  do 
this,  it  was  necessary  that  they  should  keep  their  own 
names  free  from  suspicion.  Sampson  therefore  figures  in 
this  history  rather  as  a  political  writer,  and  as  the  lawyer 
of  this  Society,  than  as  an  active  participator  in  their  plans 
of  revolution.  Besides,  Sampson  was  not  born  for  a  con- 
*  Sampson’s  Preface  to  the  American  Edition  of  Curran’s  Life. 


208 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


spirator.  He  was  a  man  of  peace ;  and  though,  he  shrunk 
from  no  danger  to  which  duty  or  honor  called  him,  he  was 
disposed  to  try  conciliation  to  the  last,  and  to  hope  for 
peaceful  reform.  Still  all  his  forbearance  could  not  pre¬ 
vent  his  becoming  a  marked  man.  His  very  moderation 
rendered  his  influence  more  formidable  to  the  ruling 
faction,  and  made  them  more  eager  to  destroy  him. 

Sampson  had  also  become  acquainted  with  Lord  Moira, 
and  exerted  himself  to  collect  authentic  facts,  showing  the 
atrocities  of  the  government  and  of  the  military,  which 
Lord  Moira  spread  before  the  British  House  of  Lords. 

From  this  nobleman  he  received  the  most  marked 
kindness.  “  He  once  called  me  into  his  cabinet,  and  after 
apologizing  by  anticipation,  with  all  that  suavity  and 
nobleness  of  manner  which  he  possesses,  and  after  I  had 
assured  him  that  I  knew  him  incapable  of  speaking  any 
thing  that  ought  to  offend,  he  proposed  to  me  to  go  over 
and  live  with  him  in  England  ;  that  he  saw  a  storm  gath¬ 
ering  round  me,  that  he  knew  how  I  was  threatened,  that 
whatever  loss  it  might  be,  he  would  endeavor  to  counter¬ 
balance  it,  and  that  to  whatever  amount  I  chose,  he  would 
be  my  banker,  and  make  my  fortune  his  particular  care. 
I  did  not  immediately  recover  from  the  emotion  this  pro¬ 
ceeding  excited  in  me  ;  but  when  I  did,  I  answered,  that 
had  this  offer  been  made  a  short  time  before,  I  might 
perhaps  have  accepted  it ;  that  I  felt  the  value  of  it  as 
much  as  though  I  did;  that,  however  agreeable  such  a 
retreat  under  the  auspices  of  his  lordship  might  be,  I  could 
not  consent  to  it  at  present  as  several  hundreds  of  my  op- 


KINDNESS  OF  LORD  MOIRA. 


209 


pressed  countrymen  looked  to  me  for  their  vindication; 
and  having  in  such  a  crisis  undertaken  the  defense  of  the 
wretched,  I  found  it  as  impossible  to  abandon  my  duty  to 
them  as  it  would  be  for  his  lordship  to  quit  the  field  of 
battle  in  the  moment  of  action.”* 

Such  were  the  men  brought  together  in  Dublin  in  the 
spring  of  1798. 


*  Memoir  of  Sampson’s  Imprisonments,  p.  60. 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Secrecy  of  the  Conspiracy. — Fidelity  of  the  Irish  to  their  Oaths. — 
Spies  of  Government. — Reynolds  betrays  them. — They  are  seized 
■while  in  Council. — Arrest  of  Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald. — Trial  and 
Execution  of  two  Brothers. 


In  examining  the  details  of  this  vast  conspiracy,  we  are 
amazed  at  the  secrecy  with  which  its  proceedings  were  car¬ 
ried  on.  For  more  than  two  years  a  plot  had  been  in  prog¬ 
ress  to  overturn  the  government — a  conspiracy  not  confined 
to  a  few  individuals,  but  extending  throughout  the  island, 
and  embracing  half  a  million  of  men.  Everywhere  men 
were  organizing  and  arming.  All  this  was  known  to  the 
government.  And  yet  the  authors  of  this  vast  movement 
could  not  be  discovered.  The  ministers  knew  that  mining 
operations  were  going  on,  and  were  in  continual  dread  of 
an  explosion,  but  they  knew  not  from  whom  the  blow  was 
to  come.  A  part  of  this  security  was  due  to  the  admirable 
contrivances  for  secrecy,  but  these  would  have  availed  little 
but  for  the  sacred  fidelity  of  the  Irish  to  their  oath  and  to 
each  other.  Hundreds  were  thrown  into  prison,  and  had 
the  terrors  of  death  before  them.  Yet  no  man’s  heart  failed 
him.  Ho  man  sought  safety  for  himself  by  betraying  his 
associates.  The  only  evidence  which  could  be  obtained  on 


THE  INFORMER  REYNOLDS. 


211 


the  state  trials  was  through  a  few  hired  informers,  who  had 
obtained  admission  into  the  lower  societies  for  the  sake  of 
betraying  their  associates,  and  of  selling  the  blood  of  their 
comrades  for  money.  The  fact  of  such  general  fidelity 
throughout  a  whole  nation  has  hardly  a  parallel  in  history, 
and  is  most  honorable  to  the  Irish  character. 

At  length  a  solitary  wretch  was  found  base  enough  to 
do  the  work  of  an  informer.  One  Thomas  Reynolds,  being 
pressed  for  a  sum  of  money,  formed  the  desperate  resolu¬ 
tion  of  selling  himself  and  sacrificing  his  associates.  He 
had  wormed  himself  into  the  confidence  of  the  leaders,*  and 
obtained  information  that  an  important  meeting  was  to  be 
held  at  the  house  of  Oliver  Bond,  an  opulent  merchant  of 
Dublin,  on  the  12th  of  March.  He  hastened  to  the  officers 
of  government  to  communicate  the  information.  A  war¬ 
rant  was  immediately  made  out  to  arrest  the  whole  party, 
and  the  next  morning  at  ten  o’clock,  a  magistrate,  attended 
by  thirteen  sergeants  disguised,  sauntered  down  the  street, 
and  knocked  at  Bond’s  door.  Reynolds  had  given  them  the 
password.  They  therefore  whispered  through  the  door, 
“  Where’s  McCann  ?  Is  Ivers  from  Carlow  come  ?”  This 
was  the  open  sesame.  They  were  instantly  admitted.  The 
committee  were  in  council  up-stairs.  Hush,  hush !  Hot  a 
word !  Softly  up  the  stairs  they  steal.  A  moment  more, 
and  the  door  is  burst,  and  the  room  is  filled  with  armed 
men.  There  were  the  conspirators,  sitting  around  a  table 
which  was  covered  with  papers.  “Hold  up  your  hands,” 
cried  a  sergeant,  “or  I’ll  shoot  you.”  And  in  a  twinkling 
they  were  grasped  in  the  strong  arms  of  their  captors.  The 
*  See  United  Irishmen,  vol.  i.  p.  160. 


212  THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 

papers  were  seized,  and  carried  to  the  council  of  ministers, 
while  the  party  was  marched  off  in  a  body  to  prison. 

As  it  happened,  neither  Emmet,  McNeven,  nor  Lord 
Edward  Fitzgerald,  were  present  at  this  meeting.  But 
Emmet  and  McNeven  were  soon  found.  Mr.  Thomas  Em¬ 
met,  who  now  resides  in  New  York,  says  that  he  remem¬ 
bers  distinctly  when  his  father  was  taken.  It  was  at  the 
house  of  Dr.  Emmet  in  Stephen ’s-green.  He  was  sleeping 
with  his  little  brother,  when  he  was  awaked  by  a  noise. 
Looking  up,  he  saw  a  file  of  soldiers  standing  near  the 
window. 

McNeven  had  lodgings  on  Ormond  Quay.  The  officer 
who  arrested  him  passed  Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald  on  the 
stairs,  and  allowed  him  to  leave  the  house,  not  knowing 
who  he  was.  Emmet  and  McNeven  were  both  conveyed 
to  Newgate. 

Sampson,  though  not  one  of  the  Directory,  nor  even  of 
the  society,  was  included  in  the  warrant.  It  was  particu¬ 
larly  desirable  to  get  hold  of  him,  as  he  had  in  his  hand 
the  proofs  of  the  atrocities  of  the  government.  A  short 
time  before,  the  police  had  paid  him  a  visit.  By  chance  a 
friend  saw  them  coming,  and  while  they  were  engaged  in 
searching  another  house,  he  hurried  to  Sampson’s  lodgings 
and  told  him  what  was  going  on,  and  advised  him  if  he 
had  any  papers  which  might  compromise  him,  to  destroy 
them  instantly.  Sampson  immediately  threw  many  papers 
into  the  fire*  One  packet  he  had  just  time  to  thrust  into 

*  Letters  of  General  C.  Cockburn,  K.  C.  H.,  to  the  Marquis  of  Anglesea, 
on  Ireland. 


THEY  ARE  BETRAYED. 


213 


the  hands  of  his  servant,  who  escaped  with  it  through 
the  garden.  The  police  came  and  found  nothing.*  . 

But  now  they  were  on  his  track  again.  Sampson 
heard  of  it  in  time  to  elude  their  search.  His  first  care 
was  to  retire  to  a  place  of  safety,  from  whence  he  wrote  to 
the  Lord  Lieutenant,  offering  to  surrender  instantly  on 

*  McNeven  thus  relates  a  design  of  Reynolds  against  his  life : — “  When 
Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald  spoke  to  me  of  Reynolds,  which  was  not  until  early 
in  March,  as  one  of  the  Kildare  colonels,  chosen  through  his  influence,  I  was 
alarmed,  and  acquainted  him  with  my  strong  dislike  and  distrust  of  that 
man.  He  thought  me  over-cautious,  but  it  was  to  the  bad  opinion  I  had  of 
Reynolds  that  I  owed  my  safety,  that  I  escaped  from  a  snare  he  laid  delib¬ 
erately  against  my  life. 

“The  day  before  the  meeting  of  the  12th  of  March,  he  called  at  my  resi¬ 
dence  twice  in  one  forenoon  without  finding  me.  The  second  time  he  gave 
my  servant  a  few  lines,  in  which  he  requested  I  would  inform  him  where  the 
Leinster  provincial  was  to  hold  its  next  sitting,  and  to  leave  a  note  for  him 
before  I  went  out. 

His  asking  a  written  answer  to  such  a  question  in  those  times  was  so 
much  worse  than  folly,  that  it  struck  me  as  if  all  were  not  right ;  but  I  had  no 
idea  of  the  extent  of  my  danger,  for  I  knew  nothing  of  the  nature  of  the  con¬ 
fidence  reposed  in  him  by  Lord  Edward,  neither  had  I  any  knowledge  of 
those  traits  of  villainy  in  his  character  which  afterward  came  out  on  the  trial 
of  Mr.  Bond.  My  precaution  arose  simply  from  the  obvious  indiscretion  of 
the  demand,  together  with  my  contemptuous  opinion  of  the  individual  him¬ 
self,  and  I  adopted  the  following  mode  of  verifying  my  suspicion.  I  folded 
a  piece  of  blank  paper  after  the  manner  of  a  letter,  which  I  laid  upon  the 
chimney-piece,  and  as  Reynolds  left  word  with  the  servant  he  would  come 
back  for  an  answer  before  dinner,  I  waited  for  him  within.  Between  three 
and  four  he  made  his  appearance,  when  I  told  him,  that  as  he  had  come  him¬ 
self,  it  was  unnecessary  to  hand  him  my  answer,  throwing  the  paper  in  the 
fire.  Never  shall  I  forget  the  sudden  falling  of  his  countenance  and  his  rue¬ 
ful  expression  of  disappointment  at  that  moment.  I  coldly  said  I  knew  noth¬ 
ing  of  the  matter,  and  looked  about  as  for  my  hat.  He  could  not  recover  his 
composure,  but  at  once  withdrew.” 


214  THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 

promise  of  trial.  Seeing  no  prospect  of  this,  he  fled  t 
England.  There  he  was  arrested  on  landing,  and  brongh 
back  to  Dublin.  No  charge  could  be  brought  against  him 
but  his  servant  was  inhumanly  flogged  to  extort  from  hin 
some  confession  on  which  to  found  an  accusation.  As  h< 
had  committed  no  crime,  no  attempt  was  made  to  briny 
him  to  trial.  But  he  was  thrown  into  the  Bridewell  as ; 
state-prisoner,  and  there  left  to  languish  for  five  months 
During  a  part  of  this  time  his  confinement  was  shared  by 
his  heroic  wife. 

Lord  Edward  was  still  at  large.  Perhaps  the  govern 
ment,  in  consideration  of  his  high  family,  wished  him  t( 
escape.  Lord  Clare,  it  is  well  known,  expressed  such  i 
desire.  He  thought  his  step-father  might  have  som( 
means  of  learning  his  retreat,  and  he  said  to  him: — “Eoi 
God’s  sake,  get  this  young  man  out  of  the  country,  the 
ports  shall  be  thrown  open  to  you,  and  no  hindrance  what¬ 
ever  offered.”  His  friends  urged  him  to  fly.  But  it  was 
on  occasions  like  this  that  the  heroism  of  his  charactei 
showed  itself.  He  had  courted  danger.  And  now  should 
he  desert  his  friends  as  the  hour  of  battle  drew  near? 
Should  he  leave  them  to  perish  while  he  sought  safety  in 
France  ?  Never.  The  heavy  blow  which  had  fallen  on 
the  society  only  doubled  his  zeal.  He  concealed  himself 
from  the  officers  in  pursuit,  but  he  remained  near  Dublin, 
and  communicated  with  the  leaders  of  the  conspiracy. 
He  rode  out  by  night  to  reconnoiter  the  lines  of  advance, 
and  to  choose  the  point  of  attack. 

His  friends  still  knew  where  to  find  him.  Says  Teel- 
ing,  in  his  Personal  Narrative  of  the  Irish  Rebellion,  “  I 


LORD  EDWARD  FITZGERALD. 


215 


was  one  evening  in  conversation  with  Lord  Edward,  when 

Col.  L -  entered  his  apartment,  accompanied  by  two 

gentlemen  with  whose  persons  I  was  unacquainted,  but 
who,  I  have  reason  to  believe,  were  members  of  the  Irish 
legislature.  [Thus  had  the  conspiracy  extended  into  the 
parliament  and  the  army.]  The  colonel,  after  embracing 
Lord  Edward  with  the  warmest  affection,  laid  on  his  table 
a  large  canvas  purse  filled  with  gold,  and  smiling  at  his 
lordship,  while  he  tapped  him  on  the  shoulder,  ‘There,’ 
said  he,  ‘  there,  my  lord,  is  provision  for—’  Both  under¬ 
stood  the  object.” 

It  was  now  evident  to  all  that  the  appeal  to  arms  could 
be  delayed  no  longer.  They  must  “  rise  then,  or  be  forever 
fallen.”  The  first  week  in  May  they  took  their  resolution 
to  prepare  for  a  general  rising  before  the  end  of  the  month. 
The  plan  of  insurrection  was  decided,  and  orders  sent  off  to 
all  parts  of  the  country  to  be  ready  for  the  day  of  battle. 

In  this  awful  crisis  of  expectation,  Lord  Edward  con¬ 
trived  still  to  see  those  whom  he  most  loved.  His  wife 
had  left  the  Duke  of  Leinster’s  immediately  on  his  disap¬ 
pearance,  and  taken  a  more  retired  house.  Here,  as  the 
maid  servant  entered  her  room  late  one  evening,  she  saw 
to  her  surprise  “  his  lordship  and  Lady  Edward  sitting  to¬ 
gether  by  the  light  of  the  fire.  The  youngest  child  had  at 
his  desire  been  brought  down  out  of  his  bed  for  him  to  see 
it,  and  both  he  and  Lady  Edward  were,  as  the  maid 
thought,  in  tears.”*  Sweet,  tender  scene,  soon  alas,  to  be 
covered  with  the  funeral  pall ! 

Fitzgerald  had  eluded  pursuit  for  more  than  two 

*  Life  of  Fitzgerald,  vol.  ii.  p.  39. 


216 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


months.  But  the  chase  grew  hot.  A  reward  of  £1000 
was  offered  for  his  arrest.  At  last  the  place  of  his  retreat 
was  discovered,  and  a  party  of  soldiers  drew  up  at  the 
door,  while  a  couple  of  officers  ascended  to  his  chamber. 
Lord  Edward  was  lying  on  his  bed  when  a  major  entered 
the  room  with  his  warrant.  In  an  instant  Fitzgerald 
sprang  from  his  bed  “  like  a  tiger,”  and  though  armed 
with  only  a  dagger,  dashed  at  his  antagonists  with  such 
fury  that  he  wounded  them  both,  one  mortally,  and  it  was 
not  until  he  had  himself  received  a  ball  in  the  shoulder, 
and  till  the  guard  from  below  was  called  up,  that  he  was 
secured.  He  was  mounted  on  a  sedan  chair,  and  thus 
transported  to  the  castle.  The  excitement  of  his  struggle 
now  reacted,  and  with  the  loss  of  blood,  caused  his  spirits 
to  sink  into  sadness.  The  Lord  Lieutenant  immediately 
sent  his  private  secretary  to  see  that  he  had  every  possible 
attention.  Says  this  gentleman : — “  I  found  Lord  Edward 
leaning  back  on  a  couple  of  chairs,  in  the  office  of  the 
secretary  in  the  war  department,  his  arm  extended,  and 
supported  by  the  surgeon,  who  was  dressing  his  wound. 
His  countenance  was  pallid,  but  serene ;  and  when  I  told 
him,  in  a  low  voice,  not  to  be  overheard,  my  commission 
from  the  Lord  Lieutenant,  and  that  I  was  going  to  break 
the  intelligence  of  what  had  occurred  to  Lady  Edward, 
asking  him,  with  every  assurance  of  my  fidelity  and 
secrecy,  whether  there  was  any  confidential  communica¬ 
tion  he  wished  to  be  made  to  her  ladyship,  he  answered, 
4  No,  no, — thank  you,— -nothing,  nothing 


n-rly, 


?  H-X- 


VIOLENT  MEASURES  OF  GOVERNMENT.  217 


The  agitation  excited  in  Dublin  by  this  event  was  in¬ 
tense.  The  arrest  took  place  just  at  evening.  Word  was 
carried  to  the  Lord  Lieutenant,  who  had  gone  to  the 
theater.  A  female  relative  of  Lord  Edward  was  sitting  in 
the  next  box,  and  heard  it  all.  She  was  so  overcome,  that 
Lady  Castlereagh  had  to  leave  the  house  with  her.  As 
soon  as  the  news  got  abroad,  the  people  were  seen  col¬ 
lected  in  groups  in  the  streets,  with  anxious  countenances, 
and  conversing  with  great  earnestness,  so  that  it  was 
strongly  apprehended  that  an  attempt  at  rescue  would  be 
made  that  night.  Three  or  four  days  after,  Ncilson,  a 
noted  United  Irishman,  and  a  man  of  powerful  frame,  was 
discovered  reconnoitring  the  prison,  and  was  arrested.* 
There  remained  no  alternative  but  an  appeal  to  arms. 
Lord  Moira  had  brought  forward  in  February  a  motion  for 
conciliation,  but  it  had  utterly  failed.  There  was  no 
onger  the  least  hope  of  a  peaceable  reform.  Seeing  how 
Lings  were  going,  and  wearied  out  by  finding  all  warn- 
ngs  neglected,  the  opposition,  with  Grattan  at  their  head, 
ormally  seceded  from  the  Ilouse  of  Commons.  Instead 
>f  redress,  the  measures  of  the  government  seemed  per- 
everingly  designed  to  goad  the  people  into  insurrection, 
jord  Castlereagh  afterward  acknowledged  that  they  had 
aken  measures  “  to  make  the  rebellion  explode.” 

Events  now  follow  each  other  fast,  as  the  tragedy  rushes 
o  its  catastrophe.  The  stream  of  political  events,  which 
ometimes  moves  sluggishly  along — sometimes  whirls 
bout  in  eddies,  now  began  to  dart  forward  with  a  rapid 
urrent.  Its  motion  soon  became  fearfully  swift.  The 

*  Life  of  Fitzgerald,  yol,  ii.  p.  65. 

K 


218 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


ship  of  state  was  fairly  in  the  rapids,  and  men  trembled 
as  they  heard  distinctly  the  roar  of  the  cataract. 

On  the  30th  of  March  martial  law  was  proclaimed 
throughout  Ireland.  This  was  the  signal  of  preparations 
for  war. 

The  arrest  of  the  leaders  precipitated  the  rebellion. 
When  such  grave  councillors  as  Emmet  were  taken  away, 
the  direction  of  affairs  fell  into  rasher  hands.  It  was  then 
that  John  Sheares  was  chosen  to  fill  a  vacancy  in  the  Di¬ 
rectory.  His  brother  Henry  was  also  a  United  Irishman, 
and  entered  into  preparations  for  the  rebellion.  The 
ardor  of  these  fresh  soldiers  of  liberty  led  them  intc 
danger,  and  to  the  sacrifice  of  their  lives. 

The  whole  history  of  the  rebellion  furnishes  nothing 
more  melancholy  than  the  fate  of  these  brothers.  Of  five 
sons  they  were  all  who  survived  to  support  the  old  age  of 
their  mother.  They  were  devotedly  attached  to  each 
other,  and  were  now  threatened  by  the  same  fate.  They 
were  arraigned  and  tried  together.  The  intense  excite¬ 
ment  of  the  case  prolonged  the  trial  to  a  late  hour.  Il 
was  after  midnight  when  the  examination  of  witnesses 
closed,  and  Mr.  Curran  rose  to  address  the  jury.  The 
court  had  then  sat  fifteen  hours,  with  but  a  recess  of  a  few 
minutes.  But  still  the  trial  must  go  on.  The  court-room 
was  near  Newgate,  and  the  prisoners  in  their  beds  could 
hear  the  voice  of  Curran  at  five  o’clock  the  next  morning 
still  addressing  the  jury.  It  was  daybreak  before  the 
judge  rose  to  smn  up  the  case.  The  jury  retired  for  a  few 
minutes,  and  returned  with  a  verdict  of  Guilty.  As  soon 
as  it  was  announced,  the  brothers  fell  into  each  other’s 


THE  EYE  OF  BATTLE. 


219 


arms.  At  three  o’clock  that  afternoon  they  received  sen¬ 
tence,  and  the  next  day  they  were  executed.  Their  love 
was  strong  in  death.  They  came  on  the  scaffold  holding 
each  other  by  the  hand.  Their  bodies  were  laid  side  by 
side  in  their  place  of  rest. 

These  arrests  were  but  just  in  time  to  save  the  govern¬ 
ment.  Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald  had  been  apprehended  on 
Saturday,  and  the  Shearses  on  Monday.  The  rebellion 
was  to  begin  on  Wednesday.  Their  arrest  brought  to 
light  the  fearful  mine  on  which  the  government  was 
standing. 

Poor  Lord  Edward’s  career  was  ended.  Stone  walls 
and  iron  bars  were  now  the  sight  which  met  his  eye.  No 
friend  was  permitted  to  visit  him.  Alone  he  watched  the 
long,  long  day,  too  happy  when  the  light  of  heaven  was 
about  to  close  around  him  forever. 

The  other  state-prisoners  were  forced  to  pace  their  cells 
in  silence  when  most  they  wished  to  be  abroad.  The 
sound  of  war  was  on  the  gale.  Let  us  leave  here  the  im¬ 
patient  spirits  of  the  leaders  confined  within  prison  walls, 
to  glance  at  the  fortunes  of  their  countrymen  in  the  field. 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

The  Rebellion  of  1  ^7 98. — Plot  to  take  Dublin. — Rising  in  Kildare. — 
Engagements. 

The  plot  was  out.  Tlie  conspirators  were  in  prison. 
Their  papers  had  been  seized.  The  fatal  secret  was 
known, — that  the  niglit  of  the  23d  of  May  was  fixed  for  'I 
the  insurrection.  On  the  22d,  Lord  Castlereagh  came 
into  the  Parliament  House  with  the  appalling  message, 
that  the  next  day  the  storm  of  war  would  hurst  upon  the 
island.  The  spirit  of  the  Commons  rose  with  danger. 
They  threw  hack  the  threat  of  insurrection  with  defiance. 

To  show  their  loyalty,  they  marched  in  a  hody  to  the 
Castle  to  pledge  the  Lord  Lieutenant  that  they  would 
stand  hy  him  to  the  last. 

Ho  words  can  describe  the  state  of  Dublin  at  this 
period.  There  was  treason  in  the  capital.  “  Committees 
were  frequently  discovered  in  deliberation;  blacksmiths 
were  detected  in  the  act  of  making  pikes ;  and  sentinels 
were  frequently  fired  at,  or  knocked  down  at  their  posts. 
Immense  quantities  of  pikes  and  other  arms  were  seized  in 
different  parts  of  the  city.”*  It  was  said  that  the  houses 
of  obnoxious  persons  had  been  marked.  Ho  man  was 
*  Sir  Richard  Musgrave’s  History  of  the  Rebellion,  vol.  i.  p.  355. 


ALARM  IN  THE  CAPITAL. 


221 


safe.  Neighbors  shunned  each  other.  Masters  were  afraid 
of  their  servants.  It  was  knoAvn  that  a  great  number  had 
taken  the  oath.  Even  the  servant  of  the  lord  mayor  was 
found  to  be  implicated  in  the  conspiracy.  He  had  engaged 
to  admit  his  confederates  into  the  house  at  dead  of  night. 
The  most  loyal  citizen  knew  not  but  there  were  conspira¬ 
tors  under  his  oavii  roof.  He  might  be  betrayed  by  one 
who  Avaited  at  his  table,  or  piked  by  his  porter  at  his  OAvn 
door. 

Every  means  Avas  employed  to  guard  against  surprise. 
On  the  day  of  the  23d,  the  streets  of  Dublin  were  filled 
with  troops,  marching  to  points  of  defense.  Long  columns 
of  infantry  filed  out  through  the  avenues.  Officers  gal¬ 
loped  through  the  streets.  The  cavalry  rattled  over  the 
pavement.  Cannon  were  dragged  to  the  outposts  of  the 
city.  Dublin  is  defended  on  its  north  and  south  sides  by 
broad  and  deep  canals.  The  troops  were  posted  in  strong 
force  on  all  the  bridges.  A  day  or  two  after,  they  were 
fortified  by  gates  and  palisades.  The  troops  lay  down  on 
their  arms.  The  night  was  passed  in  anxious  suspense. 
The  capital  breathed  heavily.  But  its  tranquillity  was  not 
disturbed.  The  vigorous  measures  of  repression  preserved 
Dublin  from  an  outbreak  at  this  time  and  throughout 
the  Avar. 

While  these  fearful  preparations  Avere  going  on,  the 
face  of  nature  seemed  strangely  in  contrast  Avith  the 
human  passions  that  raged  above  it.  The  beautiful  month 
of  May  was  melting  into  the  warm,  blue  Summer.  The 
earth  had  come  forth  in  blossoms  and  in  floAvers.  The 
island  had  put  on  its  robe  of  spring,  unconscious  that  its 


222 


THE  REBELLION. 


beauty  was  so  soon  to  be  stained  with,  blood.  It  was 
remarked  by  all  that  the  weather  was  unusually  serene. 
The  sky  was  without  a  cloud,  an  omen  which  the  people 
interpreted  as  the  blessing  of  Heaven  on  their  cause  ;  and 
some  who  were  strong  in  faith  prophesied  that  no  more 
rain  should  fall  until  Ireland  was  free. 

The  plot  had  been  to  seize  the  mail-coaches  coming  out 
of  Dublin,  on  all  the  great  routes,  and  thus  cut  off  com¬ 
munication  between  the  capital  and  the  country.  The 
burning  of  these  was  to  be  the  signal  of  insurrection  to 
the  whole  kingdom.  Already  for  some  nights  fires  had 
been  seen  burning  on  the  Wicklow  Mountains,  which  were 
evidently  intended  as  signals  to  the  insurgents.*  They 
were  then  at  the  first  push  to  attack  a  large  body  of  troops 
which  lay  seven  miles  south  of  Dublin.  At  the  same 
moment,  a  rising  was  to  take  place  within  the  capital. 
Silently  assembling  in  lanes  and  alleys,  armed  with  pikes 
and  other  weapons,  at  a  given  signal,  they  were  to  move  to 
the  assault.  One  party  was  to  attack  Newgate,  and  rescue 
Lord  Edward  Fitzgerald,  and  the  other  state-prisoners. 
Two  bodies,  advancing  on  the  Castle,  were  to  assault  it  at 
once,  in  front  and  rear.  A  select  party  provided  with 
ladders  was  to  mount  to  the  chambers,  and  seize  the  Lord 
Lieutenant.  The  privy  council  were  to  be  secured  in  their 
own  houses.  Thus  the  Rebellion  would  be  master  of  the 
government  at  a  blow. 

*  “  From  a  house  in  an  elevated  situation  in  Dublin,  I  could  discern  them 
at  a  great  distance  with  a  telescope,  and  it  is  astonishing  with  what  celerity 
they  increased  or  diminished  them,  by  which  they  answered  the  purpose  of  a 
telegraph.” — Musgrave,  vol.  i.  p.  267. 


RISING  IN  KILDARE. 


223 


The  plan  was  well  laid,  and  could  it  have  been  carried 
out  with  courage  and  secrecy,  might  have  proved  success¬ 
ful.  But  the  government  had  been  apprised  of  all  their 
plans,  and  acted  with  a  promptness  which  disconcerted  the 
insurgents.  Still  the  appointment  of  the  23d  of  May  was 
observed  in  many  places,  particularly  in  the  county  of 
Kildare. 

On  that  night  few  of  the  inhabitants  retired  to  rest. 
Weapons  were  brought  forth  from  places  of  concealment. 
Peasants  took  them  departure  from  the  cabin  door  with 
stealthy  steps.  Along  the  roads  was  heard  the  tread  of 
hurrying  feet. 

A  few  hours  saw  collected  a  large  body  of  armed  men, 
grim  warriors,  who  had  never  stood  before  in  battle  array, 
— gaunt  figures  on  which  hunger  and  oppression  had  done 
their  work.  Some  came  shouldering  a  rusty  firelock, 
some  trailing  an  old  blunderbuss,  but  most  armed  with 
long,  deadly  pikes.  Over  their  ranks  fluttered  a  green 
flag.  It  was  the  flag  of  Ireland. 

It  was  about  midnight  that  the  insurgents  assembled. 
Their  blood  was  not  suffered  to  cool  before  they  were  led 
to  battle.  Two  towns  were  attacked  that  night.  Prosperous 
was  carried  by  surprise.  The  barrack  was  set  on  fire.  A 
detachment  of  militia  perished  by  the  flames,  and  by  the 
pikes  of  the  insurgents.  The  captain  is  said  to  have  been 
unusually  severe  in  the  infliction  of  military  executions, 
and  to  have  fallen  by  the  hand  of  a  man  whose  house  he 
had  burned.*  At  Naas  another  party  had  nearly  stolen 
on  the  town,  when  a  dragoon  came  galloping  in  with  the 
*  Taylor’s  History. 


224 


THE  REBELLION. 


alarm,  tlie  drum  beat  to  arms,  and  the  attack  was  re¬ 
pulsed. 

In  tlie  course  of  a  few  days  a  number  of  actions  bad 
been  fought,  but  too  detached  for  us  to  follow.  Acting 
without  concert,  and  in  confused  masses,  the  insurgents 
were  generally  defeated.  But  they  cut  off  several  small 
bodies  of  troops,  and  took  some  arms  and  ammunition. 
They  obstructed  the  roads  so  that  for  a  week  no  mail 
arrived  in  the  capital.  They  carried  Maynooth.  They 
surprised  a  military  party  at  Dunboyne,  within  eight  miles 
of  Dublin.  The  result,  too,  in  several  combats,  was 
such  as  to  inspire  them  with  confidence.  At  Kilcullen  a 
body  of  rebels  had  taken  post  about  the  church.  General 
Dundas  rode  up  with  a  troop  of  forty  horsemen,  and 
without  waiting  for  his  infantry,  dashed  upon  them.  But 
the  Irish  pikes  proved  more  than  a  match  for  the  horse 
and  his  rider.  The  cavalry  recoiled.  Again  they  rushed 
to  the  shock.  Again  horses  fell  backward,  and  riders 
rolled  from  their  saddles.  At  the  third  charge  the  troop 
was  almost  wholly  destroyed.  Two  captains  and  twenty- 
two  privates  were  killed  on  the  spot,  and  ten  so  badly 
wounded  that  most  of  them  died  soon  after.*  This  little 
affair  did  much  to  remove  the  terror  which  the  insurgents 
at  first  had  felt  of  the  charges  of  cavalry. 

Though  these  actions  were  small,  they  spread  universal 
consternation.  Every  man  trembled  under  a  sense  of 
insecurity.  Men  on  horseback  were  shot  at  from  behind 
hedges.  Often  in  a  light  night,  armed  men  were  seen 
stealing  about  the  residences  of  the  gentry.  The  sky  was 
*  Musgrave. 


GENERAL  PANIC. 


225 


reddened  with  conflagrations.  Loyalists,  who  remained  in 
the  country,  were  obliged  to  holt  and  bar,  and  garrison 
their  houses.*  Others  fled  from  their  homes,  and  sought 
safety  in  the  towns.  Small  military  posts  were  deserted, 
that  the  troops  might  concentrate  in  large  bodies. 

But  the  county  of  Kildare  was  unfavorable  to  this 
guerilla  warfare.  No  mountains  guard  it  from  approach. 
No  wild  fastnesses  hide  the  peasant  from  his  foe.  Among 
the  hills,  climbing  among  rocks,  and  darting  into  the  thick 
forest,  the  peasant  was  the  equal  of  the  soldier.  But  the 
extensive  plains  of  Kildare  present  no  defense  against  an 
army.  They  lie  close  to  the  capital,  and  were  of  course 
easily  overrun.  Troops  of  cavalry  scoured  the  country. 
Hundreds  laid  down  their  arms.  Still  a  band  under  the 
heroic  Aylmer  kept  the  field,  and  by  retreating  rapidly, 
now  to  the  bog  of  Allen,  and  now  to  the  Wicklow  Moun¬ 
tains,  they  kept  the  standard  of  rebellion  afloat.  This 
very  band  was  the  last  that  surrendered  in  the  war,  and 
then  only  on  the  promise  of  a  general  amnesty. 

When  the  news  reached  Dublin  that  the  rebellion  had 
actually  broken  out,  the  lord  lieutenant  issued  a  proclama¬ 
tion,  “  that  His  Majesty’s  general  officers  had  orders  to 
punish  according  to  martial  law,  by  death  or  otherwise,  as 
their  judgment  should  approve,  all  persons  acting,  or  in 
any  manner  assisting  in  the  rebellion.”  When  the  proc¬ 
lamation  was  announced  to  the  House  of  Commons,  a 

*  “  Our  house  is  a  perfect  garrison ;  eighteen  soldiers  sleep  in  our 
saloon,  and  we  are  all  blocked  up,  except  by  the  hall  door,  and  one  door  to 
the  kitchen  yard ;  and  are  frequently  ordered  all  into  the  house  upon  the 
alarm  being  given  that  the  rebels  are  near.” — A  letter  quoted  in  Moore’s 
Life  of  Fitzgerald,  vol.  ii.  p.  125. 

K* 


226 


THE  REBELLION. 


motion  was  made  to  give  it  a  retrospective  effect,  so  that 
the  state-prisoners  in  Dublin  could  be  tried  bj  court- 
martial.  This  was  equivalent  to  a  sentence  of  death.  “  I 
believe,  without  exaggeration,”  says  Sampson,  “  that  this 
was  no  less  than  to  say  that  we  should  all  be  murdered.” 
Even  Lord  Castlereagh  was  shocked  at  this  savage  proposal, 
and  begged  his  ferocious  partisans  not  to  drive  the  nation 
to  despair. 

This  proclamation  let  loose  upon  the  country  the  spirit 
of  war  in  its  most  terrible  form.  It  legalized  every 
barbarity.  It  became  a  war  of  extermination.  Military 
executions  were  the  order  of  the  day.  It  was  understood 
that  no  prisoners  were  to  be  made.  Those  taken  were 
hanged  without  ceremony ;  often  with  no  proof  whatever 
of  having  taken  part  in  the  insurrection.  Officers  and  men 
made  sport  of  shooting  at  poor  wretches  in  the  fields, 
whom  they  afterward  bayoneted  to  put  them  out  of  pain. 
The  form  of  a  trial  could  save  no  man  Avhom  a  blood¬ 
thirsty  revenge  wished  to  sacrifice.  Some  of  the  officers 
who  sat  upon  these  trials  were  mere  boys.  Witnesses 
wholly  unworthy  of  credit  were  allowed  to  swear  away  the 
lives  of  peaceable  men  ;  and  sometimes  whipped  to  force 
from  them  testimony  on  which  to  rest  a  condemnation.  In 
the  little  town  of  Carnew,  fifty-four  prisoners,  many  of 
whom  had  been  confined  only  on  suspicion,  were  taken  out 
and  shot  in  the  presence  of  officers.  At  Dunlavin  thirty- 
nine  in  the  same  way  were  butchered  in  cold  blood.  These 
atrocities,  as  we  shall  see,  soon  provoked  a  terrible  retribu¬ 
tion.  To  the  unlimited  authority  given  to  the  King’s 
officers  to  put  their  prisoners  to  death,  are  to  be  ascribed 
the  horrors  of  this  exterminating  war. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


Insurrection  in  Wexford. — Provoked  by  Cruelties  of  the  Soldiery. — 
The  Rising  headed  by  a  Priest. — Battle  of  Oulart  Hill. — Battle 
of  Enniscorthy. — Encampment  on  Vinegar  Hill. 

But  the  insurrection  had  not  been  in  progress  four 
days  in  Kildare,  when  the  attention  of  the  government 
was  called  to  a  much  more  formidable  movement  in  a 
quarter  from  which  it  was  least  expected.  In  the  dis¬ 
tracted  state  of  Ireland,  it  seemed  that  there  was  at  least 
one  spot  of  peace  and  quiet,  the  county  of  Wexford. 
Here  the  gentry  generally  resided  on  their  estates,  and 
were  surrounded  by  a  loyal  and  industrious  peasantry. 
While  other  parts  of  Ireland  were  in  constant  alarm  from 
Orangemen  and  Defenders,  the  men  of  Wexford  were 
plowing  their  farms,  and  gathering  their  crops.  So  pro¬ 
verbial  had  been  this  county  for  good  order,  that  property 
was  considered  more  secure,  and  rents  were  higher,  than 
in  almost  any  other  part  of  the  kingdom.  The  organiza¬ 
tion  of  United  Irishmen  had  extended  less  than  in  any 
other  county  of  Ireland.  So  secure  was  the  government 
of  its  allegiance,  that  at  the  approach  of  the  insurrection 
but  a  small  body  of  troops  was  stationed  in  it  to  preserve 
order.  Unfortunately  these  were  more  fitted  to  provoke 
than  to  repress  rebellion. 


228 


THE  REBELLION. 


Not  a  liaucl  would  have  been  lifted  against  the  govern¬ 
ment,  liad  not  the  people  been  goaded  to  desperation  by 
the  atrocities  of  the  military.  Martial  law  bad  been  pro¬ 
claimed.  A  regiment  of  tbe  North  Cork  militia  was  sta¬ 
tioned  in  Wexford.  Tbe  savage  cruelties  of  these  men 
exceed  belief,  and  were  only  surpassed  by  tbe  cowardice 
with  which  they  afterward  ran  away  from  battle.  Men 
suspected  of  being  United  Irishmen  were  whipped  or  half 
hung.  Cabins  were  burnt.  The  peasantry  were  thrown 
into  such  an  agony  of  terror,  that  they  rushed  to  arms  in 
self-defense,  feeling  that  it  was  better  to  die  in  battle  than 
by  the  lash  of  then*  tormentors. 

The  county  of  Wexford  is  well  situated  for  defense. 
It  lies  forty  miles  south  of  Dublin,  and  is  defended  on  the 
south  and  east  by  St.  George’s  Channel,  and  on  the  north 
by  a  chain  of  mountains  between  it  and  the  county  of 
Wicklow.  The  roads  winding  among  hills  present  ex¬ 
cellent  points  for  defense.  It  is  thirty-nine  miles  long,  and 
twenty -four  broad.  Within  this  narrow  space  were  exe¬ 
cuted  the  operations  of  this  memorable  civil  war. 

The  first  rising  was  headed  by  a  Catholic  priest,  whose 
name  soon  became  famous.  Father  John  Murphy  was  the 
son  of  a  farmer.  He  had  been  educated  at  Seville  in 
Spain.  He  now  spread  the  alarm  of  war  by  lighting  a  fire 
on  a  hill  which  was  answered  from  a  distance.  A  band 
of  insurgents  soon  collected  around  him,  with  which  he 
took  post  on  the  hill  of  Oulart.  A  detachment  of  110 
picked  men  of  the  North  Cork  militia  marched  to  attack 
them..  The  terror  which  they  had  struck  into  the  poor 
peasantry  left  them  not  a  doubt  that  they  should  easily 


BATTLE  OF  OULART  HILL. 


229 


scatter  tlie  rebels  with  great  slaughter.  They  fired  two 
volleys  and  charged  furiously  up  the  hill.  The  Irish  were 
seized  with  a  panic  at  this  first  onset  of  regular  troops,  and 
broke  their  ranks  and  fled.  Father  John  flew  to  their 
head,  shouting  that  troops  were  advancing  also  from  the 
other  side  of  the  hill — that  they  were  surrounded — that 
there  was  no  retreat — they  must  conquer  or  die.  Quick 
as  thought  they  wheeled,  and  rushed  upon  the  troops,  who 
were  advancing  in  some  disorder,  with  such  fury  that  all 
but  five  were  instantly  killed.  These  escaped  only  to 
spread  the  terror  of  the  rebel  arms. 

The  moral  effect  of  this  first  victory  was  immense.  A 
similar  body  of  insurgents  had  been  defeated  that  day  on 
another  hill  a  few  miles  off,  and  had  these  too  been  scat¬ 
tered,  they  would  perhaps  have  dispersed  to  their  homes, 
and  the  rebellion  been  crushed  in  the  bud.  But  this 
success  gave  them  confidence.  It  blew  up  their  enthu¬ 
siasm.  As  they  saw  the  uniforms  of  more  than  a  hundred 
dead  soldiers  scattered  over  the  hill,  every  peasant  felt 
strong  in  his  courage  and  in  his  trusty  pike.  The  tidings 
flew  fast.  Fires  blazed  from  the  hills.  The  insurrection 
spread  in  all  quarters.  And  thousands  of  peasants  came 
flocking  to  the  camp. 

The  military  who  had  been  so  merciless  to  the  people 
had  now  their  turn  to  fear.  The  men  who  had  escaped 
were  pale  with  terror,  as  they  told  of  the  savage  ferocity 
with  which  the  rebels  fought.  They  found  that  it  was  one 
thing  to  tie  up  an  Irish  peasant  and  whip  him  in  their 
barracks,  and  quite  another  to  meet  him  when  “his  foot 
was  on  his  native  heath,”  when  his  arm  was  free,  and  a 


230 


THE  REBELLION. 


pike  in  liis  hand.  At  Grorey  tlie  whole  population,  troops 
and  all,  abandoned  the  town,  and  fled  for  their  lives. 
Many  came  to  the  priests  for  protection,  and  thinking  that 
their  only  safety  was  in  becoming  Catholics,  begged  to  be 
baptized.  To  the  honor  of  the  priests,  be  it  said,  that 
their  interference  saved  many  lives.  To  the  panic  which 
this  battle  caused,  is  to  be  referred  more  than  one  disgrace- 
fid  defeat  of  the  war. 

Father  Murphy  did  not  suffer  this  enthusiasm  to  be 
lost.  The  next  day  he  marched  to  attack  Enniscorthy. 
This  town  is  divided  into  two  parts  by  the  river  Slaney, 
which  is  crossed  by  a  stone  bridge.  The  insurgents  ap¬ 
proached  on  the  western  side.  They  drove  before  them 
horses  and  cattle  to  disorder  the  ranks  of  the  enemy,  and 
with  loud  shouts  advanced  to  the  attack.  They  soon 
penetrated  the  town,  which  they  set  on  fire.  The  troops 
at  the  gates  were  forced  to  fall  back  to  the  bridge.  Here 
they  maintained  a  most  obstinate  defense.  Some  idea  of 
the  severity  of  the  engagement  may  be  formed  from  the 
fact  that  one  company  fired  forty  rounds  each  man.  But 
the  river  at  this  time  was  low,  and  by  wading  up  to  the 
middle,  and  some  of  them  up  to  the  neck,  the  rebels  were 
able  to  cross,  and  to  take  the  troops  in  flank.  The  town 
was  set  on  fire  on  the  eastern  side  of  the  river.  The  order 
was  given  to  retreat.  All  was  now  horror  in  the  town. 
Men,  women  and  children,  mothers  carrying  their  infants 
on  their  backs,  fled  through  the  burning  streets.  This 
terrified  multitude  poured  forth  on  the  road  to  Wexford, 
fourteen  miles  to  the  south.  Happily  they  were  not  pur¬ 
sued,  and  succeeded  in  making  their  escape. 


ENCAMPMENT  ON  VINEGAR  HILL. 


231 


The  rebels,  too  content  with  their  victory  to  chase  the 
flying  foe,  now  set  about  establishing  an  entrenched  camp. 
The  town  of  Enniscorthy  lies  at  the  foot  of  a  lofty  emi¬ 
nence,  called  Vinegar  Hill.  As  the  setting  sun  fell  across 
the  landscape,  thousands  of  armed  peasants  might  be  seen 
climbing  up  the  height.  As  this  was  the  center  of  their 
operations  for  the  rest  of  the  war,  we  may  mount  the  hill 
with  them,  and  take  a  look  at  their  camp. 

On  the  summit  stood  an  old  windmill,  which  they  con¬ 
verted  into  a  guard-house  for  prisoners.  On  the  tower 
they  planted  the  green  flag  of  Ireland,  which  floated  in 
full  view  of  the  country  for  miles  around.  Along  the 
edge  of  the  hill  they  threw  up  an  intrenchment,  on  which 
they  planted  a  few  cannon.  Sentinels  were  stationed 
around  the  hill,  and  videts  along  the  roads.  The  bell  of 
the  church  of  Enniscorthy,  which  had  been  taken  down, 
was  swung  between  two  beams  to  mark  the  hours  for 
changing  guard,  and  to  strike  the  alarm  in  case  of  a 
surprise. 

The  appearance  of  the  encampment  was  motley  enough. 
A  few  white  tents  dotted  the  field,  under  which  their  chiefs 
lay  down  to  rest.  But  the  people  slept  under  the  open 
sky.  From  this  exposure  they  suffered  little  as  the  wea¬ 
ther  was  uncommonly  mild.  In  such  a  promiscuous  multi¬ 
tude  no  great  discipline  could  be  preserved.  Such  was  the 
want  of  order  that  many,  who  lay  down  by  their  arms  at 
night,  missed  them  in  the  morning.  Gordon  relates — what 
I  hope  for  the  honor  of  my  heroes  is  not  true — that  “often, 
when  a  rebel  was  in  a  sound  sleep,  he  was  robbed  by  some 
associate  of  his  gun,  or  other  article  at  that  time  valuable, 


232 


THE  REBELLION. 


so  that  many,  to  prevent  stealing,  liad  to  sleep  flat  on  their 
bellies,  with  their  hat  and  shoes  tied  under  their  breasts.” 

In  the  day-time  the  camp  was  thronged  with  a  multi¬ 
tude  of  women,  who  came  to  bring  provisions  to  their  hus¬ 
bands  and  brothers.  All  ages  were  collected,  old  men 
with  gray  beards,  leaning  on  the  long  pike  as  on  a  staff : 
and  young  men,  as  brave  lads  as  ever  skipped  across  a 
bog,  or  danced  on  the  village  green  by  moonlight.  Men 
and  boys  lay  about  sprawling  on  the  ground,  or  were  col¬ 
lected  in  groups  talking  over  the  fortunes  of  the  war,  or 
listening  to  some  belligerent  priest  who  had  taken  the 
command  to  fight  the  good  fight  in  a  literal  sense. 

There  were  many  priests  in  the  camp,  and  they  had 
great  influence  over  the  wild  peasantry.  Mass  was  per¬ 
formed  as  regularly  as  the  morning  parade.  Sermons  were 
preached  to  inflame  the  religious  fanaticism  of  the  people, 
and  assure  them  that  they  had  engaged  in  a  holy  war. 
One  priest  declared  in  a  sermon,  “  That  God  Almighty  be¬ 
friended  them  in  all  their  operations  for  the  attainment  of 
liberty ;  and  that  the  whole  of  the  business  was  as  visibly 
his  work,  as  that  of  dividing  the  Red  Sea  by  Moses.”  The 
Irish  derived  great  confidence  from  the  presence  of  their 
priests,  for  they  believed  them  possessed  of  almost  mirac¬ 
ulous  power.  They  said,  “Father  John  Murphy  caught 
red-hot  bullets  in  his  hand.”  Another  priest  took  bullets 
out  of  his  pocket,  and  assured  the  people  that  they  had  hit 
him  in  battle  in  different  parts  of  his  body,  and  that  they 
could  not  do  him  any  injury.  The  Irish  thought  that  they 
would  derive  a  part  of  this  security  from  being  blessed  by 
a  priest.  They  had  especial  veneration  for  Father  Keane, 


SCENES  IN  THE  REBEL  CAMP. 


233 


a  little,  gray-headed  old  man,  commonly  called  “the  bles¬ 
sed  priest  of  Bannow.”  He  constantly  visited  the  rebel 
camp.  He  rode  on  a  pony,  which  was  led  by  two  pike- 
men,  who  cried  out  with  a  loud  voice,  “  Make  way  for  the 
blessed  priest  of  Bannow.”  The  crowd  fell  on  their  knees, 
and  asked  his  blessing.  He  distributed  a  great  many  little 
scapulars  to  the  rebels,  assuring  them  that  with  these  on,  a 
ball  from  a  heretic  gun  could  do  them  no  more  injury  than 
a  pea.*  Often  they  knelt  down,  kissed  the  ground  and 
crossed  themselves.  Then  rising  up,  they  were  in  an  in¬ 
stant  in  all  the  tumult  of  war.  Again  they  were  around 
their  camp-fires,  cooking  a  soldier’s  meal,  or  drinking  suc¬ 
cess  to  the  Irish  republic.  Shouts  of  victory  rang  round. 
Nor  was  music  wanting  to  complete  the  pomp  and  circum¬ 
stance  of  war.  Often  was  their  patriotic  ardor  kindled 
with  sound  of  fife  and  drum.  Then  some  stentorian  voice 
burst  into  a  song  to  their  new-born  liberty,  while  thou¬ 
sands  joined  in  the  chorus  of  Erin  mavourneen,  Erin  go 
bragh. 

With  this  comedy  of  war  were  mingled  other  scenes 
most  sad  and  tragical.  The  government  officers  had  shown 
no  mercy  to  the  rebels  who  fell  into  their  hands.  The 
court-martial  sentenced  them  to  execution  in  the  most 
summary  manner.  And  now  the  rebels  had  it  in  their 
power  to  retaliate.  Many  prisoners  had  been  brought  into 
the  camp  on  V  inegar  Hill.  A  revolutionary  tribunal  was 
set  up,  like  those  in  the  French  Reign  of  Terror,  which 
passed  instant  judgment  on  Orangemen  and  loyalists. 
Many  to  whom  fate  had  denied  the  milder  doom  of  perish- 
*  Musgrave. 


234 


THE  REBELLION. 


ing  in  battle,  now  suffered  military  execution.  Sucli  was 
the  swift  retribution  which  came  on  those  who  had  driver 
a  brave  people  to  despair.  The  passions  of  the  rebel  army 
were  beyond  control.  They  raged  with  savage  joy  at  then 
power  of  revenge.  Thus  each  day  passed  with  shout,  and 
song,  and  blood.  Night  put  an  end  to  the  work  of  death. 
When  twilight  fell  over  the  scene,  shouts  of  vengeance,  and 
the  shrieks  of  the  unhappy  victims,  grew  fainter  on  the 
hill.  And  peasant  and  prisoner  sank  down  together  into 
a  troubled  sleep. 


CHAPTER  XX. 

Panic  at  Wf.xfobd. — The  Rebels  march  on  that  Town. — Battle  of  the 
Three  Rocks.  —  Flight  of  the  King’s  Troops.  —  The  Insurgents 

MARCH  AGAINST  GoREY. - ThEY  DEFEAT  COLONEL  WaLPOLE. 


Meanwhile  all  was  dismay  at  Wexford,  the  capital 
of  the  county.  This  was  but  fourteen  miles  distant.  Some 
who  had  effected  their  escape  from  the  battle  came  riding 
into  Wexford,  with  their  horses  in  full  foam.  At  the  same 
time  a  heavy  cloud  of  smoke  was  seen  to  roll  up  from  En- 
niscorthy.  In  a  few  hours  a  multitude  of  fugitives  were 
descried  hurrying  along  the  road.  The  agitation  and  dis¬ 
tress  painted  in  their  countenances  added  to  the  general  con¬ 
sternation.  They  poured  through  the  town,  and  not  think¬ 
ing  themselves  safe  even  there,  crowded  on  board  the  ships 
in  the  harbor.  The  bodies  of  the  officers  who  had  fallen 
at  Oulart  had  been  recovered,  and  were  now  brought  into 
Wexford,  which  added  to  the  general  dismay,  while  the 
widows  of  the  soldiers  who  had  been  killed  in  that  battle, 
were  raving  through  the  streets,  filling  the  air  with  their 
cries. 

Instantly  the  town  assumed  the  appearance  of  war. 
Houses  were  closed,  doors  and  windows  barred.  Streets 
were  barricaded  with  huge  piles  of  stones  and  timbers. 


23G 


THE  REBELLION. 


Guards  were  mounted  at  every  exposed  point,  and  addi¬ 
tional  troops,  both  horse  and  foot,  marched  into  the  town. 

Two  days  before  this  the  military  had  seized  three  gen¬ 
tlemen  of  influence  in  the  county  who  were  suspected  of 
favoring  a  revolution.  After  the  battle  of  Oulart,  the 
North  Cork  militia  wished  to  revenge  the  fall  of  their  com¬ 
rades  by  massacring  these  prisoners.  But  the  tide  of  war 
ebbed  too  fast.  And  as  danger  to  themselves  grew  immi¬ 
nent,  they  came  to  the  jail,  not  to  shoot  their  captives,  but 
to  beg  them  to  go  as  a  deputation  to  the  camp  of  the  rebels 
on  Vinegar  Hill,  to  obtain  mercy  for  the  town. 

If  the  Irish  had  been  elated  before  at  their  victories,  the 
arrival  of  an  offer  of  surrender  completed  their  enthusiasm. 
The  very  proposal  showed  the  weakness  or  the  terror  of 
the  enemy,  and  caused  it  to  be  instantly  rejected.  The  in¬ 
surgents  had  hesitated  what  town  to  attack  next.  But  this 
decided  them.  “  To  Wexford,”  was  the  cry,  which  flew 
along  the  ranks.  And  they  were  soon  under  march. 

But  in  picturing  the  march  of  this  host,  which  seemed 
to  have  sprung  out  of  the  earth,  we  must  not  conceive  of  a 
regular  army  moving  in  battle  array.  No  long,  glittering 
lines  moved  with  even  tread.  Like  the  French  sans  culottes , 
the  Irish  came  in  their  peasant  dresses  to  the  war.  Their 
officers  presented  a  more  dashing  appearance,  as  they  sat 
on  horses,  and  wore  sashes  and  red  cross  belts,  with  sabers 
and  pistols.  A  few  others  had  picked  up  horses.  But 
they  were  in  want  of  saddles.  'This,  however,  was  soon 
provided  for.  In  the  gentlemen’s  houses  which  they  plun¬ 
dered,  were  large  libraries.  A  grave  folio,  opened  in  the 
middle,  and  laid  softly  on  the  backbone,  made  Pat  a  com- 


THE  REBELS  MARCH  ON  WEXFORD.  237 


fortable  seat.  This  was  fastened  with  a  rope,  and  thus 
mounted,  the  Irish  cavalry  jogged  on  in  the  crowd.  No 
long  train  of  baggage-wagons  retarded  the  march.  Half 
a  dozen  small  field-pieces  composed  their  whole  artillery. 
But  a  small  part  of  the  infantry  bore  fire-arms.  In  their 
swift  marches  they  presented  the  appearance  of  a  moving 
forest  of  pikes. 

Such  was  the  body  that  now  descended  the  slope  of 
Vinegar  Hill,  and  poured  down  the  valley  of  the  Slaney. 
Father  John,  mounted  on  horseback,  and  carrying  a  cru- 
;ifix,  led  the  way.  Fainter  and  fainter  the  sounds  of  war 
lied  down  the  vale. 

This  motley  army  encamped  at  the  Three  Rocks,  on  the 
;astern  end  of  the  mountain  of  Forth,  overlooking  W ex- 
ord.  But  General  Fawcett  the  commander  at  Duncannon 
Fort,  was  now  on  a  march  with  a  large  force  for  the  relief 
of  the  town.  When  within  seven  miles  he  halted,  and  sent 
orward  a  detachment,  which  advanced  close  to  the  moun- 
ain  of  Forth  without  knowing  the  position  of  the  enemy. 
Vt  the  moment  they  discovered  it,  the  insurgents  rushed 
ipon  them  with  loud  yells,  and  attacked  them  with  such 
ury  that  they  were  utterly  destroyed.  Fugitives  carried 
he  disastrous  tidings  to  their  commander,  who  retreated  in 
error  to  the  fort,  and  immediately  sent  off  his  family  to 
England. 

By  this  victory  the  rebels  acquired  a  large  quantity  of 
rms  and  ammunition.  Two  cannon  they  dragged  to  the 
op  of  the  ridge,  and  when  several  hours  later  the  gar- 
ison  of  Wexford  made  a  sortie,  they  were  driven  back 
vith  a  fire  from  these  guns,  which  were  aimed  with  a  pre- 


238 


THE  REBELLION. 


cision  which  showed  that  there  were  some  skillful  gunnel 
in  the  camp  of  the  rebels. 

The  sallying  army  instantly  retreated  into  the  towi 
They  now  thought  discretion  the  better  part  of  valor.  Tk 
soldiers  whose  cruelties  had  provoked  the  insurrection,  di< 
not  stay  to  fight.  They  evacuated  the  town  in  a  panic 
Soon  after  the  victorious  insurgents  poured  across  the  mag 
nificent  bridge  of  Wexford  with  loud  shouts  of  exultation 
They  instantly  marched  to  the  jail,  and  released  all  th 
state-prisoners.  Among  them  they  found  Beauchamj 
Bagnal  Harvey,  a  man  who  was  a  great  favorite  with  th 
people,  and  whom  they  elected  to  be  their  commander-in 
chief. 

Meanwhile  the  political  character  of  the  town  had  un 
dergone  a  miraculous  transformation.  But  an  hour  ago 
while  in  possession  of  the  king’s  troops,  it  was  the  mos;, 
loyal  town  in  his  majesty’s  dominions.  How  not  a  trace 
of  loyalty  was  to  be  seen.  The  insurgents  were  welcomed 
as  good  fellows  who  were  fighting  for  the  independence  of 
their  country.  The  houses  were  decorated  with  green, 
Doors  were  thrown  open,  and  the  men  invited  to  enter  and 
refresh  themselves.  Many  in  heart  favored  the  Rebellion, 
but  had  not  dared  to  avow  their  sentiments  before.  Mus- 
grave  says,  “  Provisions  had  been  so  scarce  that  the  king’s 
troops  were  almost  starved ;  and  yet,  as  soon  as  the  rebels 
entered  the  town,  long  tables,  well  served  with  food,  were 
laid  for  them  in  the  streets.”  Some  who  had  worn  the 
dress  of  officers  were  glad  to  change  their  regimentals  for  a 
ragged  coat,  and  breeches  out  at  the  knees.  They  unbent 
from  the  military  strut,  and  slouched  into  a  beggarly  gait, 


THE  INSURGENTS  MOVE  NORTH. 


239 


with  their  eyes  humbly  cast  on  the  ground.  Some  so  far 
forgot  their  warlike  character  as  to  hide  under  women’s 
clothes. 

The  retreat  of  the  royal  troops  resembled  a  flight.  They 
hurried  on  in  consternation,  butchering  the  poor  peasants 
whom  they  met  on  the  route,  as  if  that  were  valor,  when 
flying  from  a  foe  they  dared  not  face.  They  pushed  with, 
all  speed  for  Duncannon  Fort.  Many  at  this  moment  de¬ 
clared  that  a  revolution  was  inevitable — that  the  people 
had  arisen,  and  that  nothing  could  withstand  them.  And 
they  were  already  contemplating  with  despondency  their 
probable  banishment  from  the  country. 

These  rapid  marches  and  battles  placed  nearly  the 
whole  county  of  Wexford  in  the  hands  of  the  people. 
They  now  divided  their  army.  One  division  marched  to 
the  north  to  attack  Gorey,  and  force  their  way  toward 
Dublin,  while  the  main  body  under  Harvey  turned  to  the 
west,  and  took  post  on  Carrickbyrne  Mountain. 

The  town  of  Gorey  had  been  in  dread  of  an  attack 
since  the  battle  of  Oulart  Hill.  The  people  had  deserted 
it  the  next  day,  but  not  finding  themselves  pursued,  after 
several  days  they  ventured  back.  The  approach  of  the 
rebels  now  threatened  them  again.  On  the  first  of  June, 
says  Rev.  Mr.  Gordon,  “  I  happened  to  be  on  the  road  near 
Gorey,  \vhen  a  man  on  the  top  of  a  house  cried  out  to 
me  that  all  the  country  to  the  south  Avas  in  a  blaze ;  for 
straggling  parties  of  the  rebels,  attending  the  motions  of 
the  main  body,  had,  as  usual,  set  fire  to  many  houses.  I 
had  hardly  got  a  view  of  the  conflagration  when  I  heard 


240 


THE  REBELLION. 


a  discharge  of  musketry,  which  continued  some  time  with¬ 
out  intermission.” 

It  was  the  custom  of  the  rebels  to  pitch  their  camps  on 
commanding  hills,  which  at  once  afforded  a  good  military 
position,  and  a  wide  view  of  the  surrounding  country. 
They  now  took  post  on  Corrigrua  Hill,  seven  miles  from 
Gorey,  and  here  rested  several  days.  The  loyalists  were  in 
greater  consternation  than  ever  at  this  near  presence  of  the 
enemy.  But  on  the  4th  of  June  they  were  completely  re¬ 
assured  by  seeing  1500  fine  troops  under  General  Loftus 
march  into  the  town.  As  these  long  columns,  with  proud 
step  and  glancing  arms,  moved  through  the  streets,  every 
loyal  breast  swelled  high.  Women  and  children  gathered 
to  see  them  pass.  And  when  the  horses  dragged  lumber¬ 
ing  along  five  heavy  pieces  of  artillery,  the  least  warlike 
longed  to  hear  the  cannon’s  roar,  which  was  to  scatter  for¬ 
ever  the  forces  of  the  Rebellion.  Hot  a  doubt  was  enter¬ 
tained  that  the  final  blow  was  now  to  be  struck.  The  army 
was  to  march  to  the  attack  on  the  following  morning. 

Among  the  officers  was  Colonel  Walpole,  a  favorite  of 
Lord  Camden,  and  who  held  a  confidential  situation  in  the 
Castle.  He  had  now  come  down  from  Dublin  that  he  might 
have  the  glory  of  finishing  the  war.  Though  a  subordinate 
officer,  no  sooner  had  he  entered  the  camp  than  he  began 
to  give  his  opinion  in  a  forward  manner,  as  though  he  were 
commander-in-chief.  General  Loftus  was  annoyed  with 
his  officiousness.  But  he  feared  to  offend  him,  lest  it  should 
bring  down  upon  him  the  displeasure  of  his  master  at  the 
capital.  He  accordingly  assigned  him  the  command  of  one 


WALPOLE’S  DEFEAT. 


241 


of  the  detachments  which  was  to  march  against  the  enemy 
the  following  morning. 

ISTo  sooner  had  the  dram  beat  at  break  of  day  than 
he  was  at  the  head  of  his  column.  The  day  of  his  glory 
had  come.  lie  was  dressed  in  full  uniform,  and  mounted 
on  a  tall,  gray  horse. 

The  army  now  filed  out  of  Gorey  in  two  divisions. 
General  Loftus  charged  Colonel  Walpole  to  proceed  with 
the  utmost  caution,  and  to  let  him  know  how  he  went  on. 
But  what  is  prudence  to  the  brave  ?  He  pushed  forward 
to  the  battle  lest  his  general  should  arrive  first,  and  antici¬ 
pate  the  victory. 

Meanwhile  the  rebels  were  not  asleep.  They  on  their 
part  had  been  preparing  to  march  on  Gorey.  Very  early 
that  morning  they  received  intelligence  of  the  movements 
of  the  royal  army,  and  at  the  same  time  that  the  columns 
were  filing  out  of  Gorey  by  two  roads,  the  rebel  army  with 
better  judgment  was  descending  the  hill  of  Corrigrua  in  a 
solid  body. 

Colonel  Walpole  had  not  gone  far  when  some  rebels 
were  seen  at  a  distance.  His  officers  suggested  that  they 
should  stop  and  form,  and  send  out  an  advanced  guard. 
He  put  an  end  to  their  advice  by  telling  them  that  he  was 
lommanding  officer.  As  the  number  of  rebels  increased, 
lis  officers  again  begged  that  the  army  might  be  deployed 
nto  line,  and  halt  until  he  could  communicate  his  situation 
o  General  Loftus.  He  answered  that  the  victory  should 
>e  Colonel  Walpole’s,  and  not  General  Loftus’s.  He  could 
lot  stop  a  moment.  He  said,  “  He  was  afraid  the  rebels 
vould  escape  him.”  There  was  no  danger. 

L 


242 


THE  REBELLION. 


Eager  to  snatch  the  triumph,  he  was  advancing  at  the 
head  of  his  column,  ivhen,  at  a  turn  in  the  road,  he  found 
himself  within  a  few  paces  of  the  enemy.  A  confused  en¬ 
gagement  immediately  commenced.  The  insurgents  poured 
in  a  deadly  fire  from  the  fields  on  either  side  of  the  road. 
Colonel  Walpole  was  shot  through  the  head.  The  troops 
were  thrown  into  disorder,  and  in  a  few  minutes  were  in 
full  retreat  back  to  the  town,  which  they  had  left  but  an 
hour  ago  in  all  the  confidence  of  victory.* 

Meanwhile  General  Loftus  heard  the  firing,  but  being 
at  a  distance,  and  on  another  road,  he  could  not  reach  the 
scene  of  action.  He  immediately  dispatched  a  company 
of  grenadiers  across  the  fields.  This  however  came  up 
only  in  time  to  be  intercepted  by  the  victorious  rebels,  and 
was  wholly  destroyed.  The  general  continued  his  march 
along  the  highway,  and  coming  round  at  last  to  the  field 
of  battle,  beheld  with  horror  Colonel  Walpole  stretched 
upon  the  earth.  He  hurried  on  in  the  track  of  the  insur¬ 
gents  toward  Gorey,  and  when  after  this  long  circuit,  he 
came  in  sight  of  the  town  which  he  had  left  in  the  morn¬ 
ing,  he  found  the  insurgents  posted  on  a  hill  which  com¬ 
mands  it,  and  was  fired  upon  from  the  cannon  which  had 
just  been  taken  from  his  own  troops.  He  did  not  judge  it 
prudent  to  attack  them  in  this  strong  position,  and  while 
flushed  with  victory,  nor  to  enter  the  town  under  their 
guns.  He  accordingly  made  a  rapid  retreat  to  Carnew. 

The  detachment  of  Colonel  Walpole  had  not  dared  to 
stop  in  Gorey,  but  rushing  through  the  town,  fled  toward 

*  For  the  rashness  of  Colonel  Walpole  see  Sir  Richard  Musgrave’s  His¬ 
tory  of  the  Rebellion,  yol.  i.  p.  491-494. 


CRISIS  OF  THE  WAR. 


243 


Arklow.  It  was  a  moment  of  general  panic.  The  rebel 
flag  floats  on  Gorey  hill !  There  is  a  sound  of  triumph  in 
the  camp.  Afar  off  the  terrified  fugitives  hear  the  noise 
of  the  captains  and  the  shouting.  Parties  flying  from  the 
spot  are  scattered  over  the  country  far  and  near.  "War- 
horses,  with  no  riders  in  their  saddles,  dash  away  like 
wild  steeds  on  the  desert.  Women  and  children,  piled 
on  jaunting  cars,  go  tilting  along  the  road.  How  is  the 
time  for  horsemen  to  ride.  Eide,  ride,  brave  yeomen; 
your  life  is  in  your  horses’  speed.  On,  on,  up  the  hill 
they  spur,  and  down  the  steep  they  plunge.  Across  the 
bridges  they  clatter,  racing  for  dear  life.  At  Arklow  a 
council  of  war  was  hastily  called,  at  which  it  was  deter¬ 
mined  to  abandon  that  town.  It  was  not  possible  to  pre¬ 
serve  order.  Soldiers  threw  away  their  packs  to  lighten 
their  march.  Some  mounted  on  horses  did  not  stop  until 
they  reached  Dublin.  Others  sank  down  by  the  roadside 
when  their  horses  could  carry  them  no  farther. 

This  was  the  most  critical  moment  of  the  war.  The 
hopes  of  the  insurgents  were  raised  to  the  highest  pitch  of 
enthusiasm.  Father  Michael  Murphy  wrote  to  a  friend  in 
Dublin :  “  Great  events  are  ripening.  In  a  few  days  we 
shall  meet.  We  shall  have  an  army  of  brave  republicans, 
one  hundred  thousand,  with  fourteen  pieces  of  cannon,  on 
Tuesday,  before  Dublin.  Your  heart  will  beat  high  at  the 
news.  You  will  rise  with  a  proportionable  force.” 

The  Irish  government  now  became  seriously  alarmed. 
The  spell  of  their  invincibility  was  gone.  It  was  evident 
that  the  rebellion  could  be  crushed  only  by  an  overwhelm¬ 
ing  force.  Men  who  longed  for  peace  implored  the  gov- 


244 


THE  REBELLION. 


ernment  to  try  conciliation.  But  it  was  too  late.  The 
war  was  begun.  They  were  committed  to  the  contest,  and 
were  determined  to  fight  it  through.  They  now  acted 
with  a  vigor  worthy  of  the  crisis.  The  troops  which  had 
fled  from  Arklow  were  instantly  ordered  back,  and  sup¬ 
ported  by  large  reinforcements. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

Battle  of  Arkj.ow  and  New  Ross. — Massacres  at  Scullabogue  and 
Wexford. — The  Armies  converging. — Sir  John  Moore  defeats  the 
Insurgents  near  Wexford. — Battle  of  Vinegar  Hill. 

Had  the  insurgents,  immediately  after  Walpole’s  defeat, 
marched  upon  Arklow,  it  must  have  fallen  without  a  blow, 
and  a  clear  road  would  have  been  opened  to  Dublin.  But 
they  were  detained  several  days  at  Gorey  for  want  of  am¬ 
munition.  And  when  at  last  they  moved  north,  Arklow 
was  held  by  a  fresh  garrison  of  sixteen  hundred  men. 

And  now  the  roads  were  black  with  approaching 
masses.  As  the  rebel  army  drew  near  the  town,  they 
halted  to  form.  Each  company  had  a  green  flag  with  the 
harp  of  Erin  in  the  center.  Officers  were  seen  on  horse¬ 
back  riding  through  the  ranks,  encouraging  the  men. 
Then  all  moved  forward.  Raising  their  hats  on  their 
pikes  and  giving  the  most  dreadful  yells,  they  rushed  to 
the  attack.  They  had  been  divided  into  two  columns. 
One  of  these  moving  along  the  sea-shore  with  great  ra¬ 
pidity,  drove  in  the  guard,  penetrated  the  town,  and  set 
it  on  fire.  The  battle  now  raged  on  all  sides.  The 
Commander-in-chief  wished  to  order  a  retreat.  The  brave 
Colonel  Skerrett  begged  him  to  stand  firm.  He  said, 


246 


THE  REBELLION. 


“We  can  not  hope  for  victory  except  by  preserving  our 
ranks  ;  if  we  break,  all  is  lost,  and  from  the  spirit  which  I 
have  seen  displayed  at  this  awful  crisis  by  the  Durham 
regiment,  I  can  not  bear  the  idea  of  its  giving  ground.”* 
Discipline  soon  evinced  its  usual  superiority  over  wild 
courage.  The  ammunition  of  the  rebels  was  also  ex¬ 
hausted,  and  they  were  compelled  to  fall  back  toward 
Gorey. 

This  kept  the  rebellion  from  spreading  to  the  north. 
Had  it  burst  this  barrier,  it  would  have  swept  through  the 
county  of  Wicklow,  and  on  to  the  very  gates  of  the  capital. 
A  similar  defeat  in  the  south,  kept  it  from  spreading  in 
that  direction. 

While  these  scenes  were  transpiring  at  the  north,  a 
battle  yet  more  obstinate  and  bloody  had  been  fought  at 
the  south.  The  same  day  that  the  victorious  rebels  en¬ 
tered  Gorey,  the  force  under  Harvey  descended  from 
Carrickbyrne  Mountain,  and  advanced  to  Corbet  Hill, 
within  a  mile  of  New  Boss.  This  town  lies  on  the  river 
Barrow,  and  is  the  key  to  the  counties  of  Kilkenny  and 
Waterford.  If  this  were  carried,  the  insurrection  would  at 
once  become  general  throughout  the  south  of  Ireland. 
Reinforcements  had  been  pouring  into  it  for  several  days. 
It  had  now  a  garrison  of  twelve  hundred  disciplined 
troops.  Early  on  the  following  morning  the  battle  began, 
and  was  the  hardest  of  the  war.  It  raged  for  ten  hours. 
Never  was  the  native  courage  of  the  Irish  more  fully  dis¬ 
played,  nor  on  the  other  hand  the  immeasurable  advan¬ 
tage  of  discipline  over  wild  valor.  The  insurgents  at  first 

*  Gordon’s  History,  p.  157. 


BATTLE  OF  NEW  ROSS. 


247 


dislodged  the  troops  from  behind  the  walls  and  ditches, 
where  they  were  posted,  and  pressing  on,  drove  them 
through  the  town,  and  across  the  river.  But  this  first  suc¬ 
cess  gained,  the  Irish  gave  themselves  up  to  drinking,  and 
forgot  the  foe.  Vigilant  and  daring,  the  troops  poured 
back  into  the  town,  and  the  assailants  in  turn  were  driven 
out.  Again  the  place  was  carried  by  desperate  assault. 
The  masses  of  the  insurgents  rushed  headlong  on  the  guns 
of  the  enemy.  The  British  cannon  swept  through  streets 
choked  with  men.  The  Irish  dashed  on  over  the  dead. 
One  man,  rushing  up  to  the  mouth  of  a  cannon,  thrust  his 
hat  and  wig  into  it,  shouting  to  his  comrades,  “  Come  on, 
boys,  she’s  stopped!”  At  that  instant  the  gunner  applied 
the  match,  and  he  was  blown  to  atoms.  Again  the  town 
was  lost  by  want  of  discipline.  Three  times  that  day  were 
the  royal  troops  driven  from  their  position,  and  three 
times  they  regained  it.  At  last,  after  ten  hours’  desperate 
fighting,  they  remained  masters  of  the  place,  but  nearly 
one  fourth  of  their  number  had  fallen. 

As  the  tide  of  battle  ebbed  and  flowed,  the  political 
character  of  the  panic-struck  population  changed.  The 
orange  ribbon  was  changed  for  the  green,  and  the  green 
for  the  orange.  Some  of  the  affrighted  inhabitants  changed 
sides  two  or  three  times  the  same  day. 

The  rebel  army  drew  off,  defeated  for  the  time,  but 
not  dismayed.  They  retired  to  a  neighboring  mountain, 
where  they  pitched  their  camp,  answering  regularly  the 
morning  gun  of  the  garrison. 


24S 


THE  REBELLION. 


Tlie  most  horrible  feature  of  this  civil  war  was  the 
military  executions  and  the  wholesale  massacres.  In  the 
heat  of  battle  neither  side  gave  quarter.  It  was  like  the 
Avar  betAveen  the  Spaniard  and  the  Moor, — a  war  to  the 
knife.  But  the  slaughter  in  battle  was  mercy  to  the  deeds 
in  cold  blood  Avhich  followed. 

On  this  occasion,  a  number  of  runaways  from  the 
battle  of  Boss  fled  hi  the  direction  of  Scidlabogue,  at  the 
foot  of  Carrickbyrne  Mountain,  where  the  rebels  had  over 
a  hundred  prisoners  confined  in  a  barn.  A  rumor  was 
spread  that  the  troops  were  shooting  all  their  prisoners  in 
Boss.  The  crowd  ivas  ivild  with  excitement.  An  infu¬ 
riated  mob  of  men  and  Avomen  rushed  to  the  barn,  shouting 
revenge.  The  guards  tried  to  drive  them  back.  They 
Avere  overpowered.  The  roof  was  of  thatch,  and  easily  set 
on  fire,  and  the  unhappy  prisoners  were  consumed  in  a 
body  in  the  flames.  This  has  been  represented  as  a  mas¬ 
sacre  of  Protestants  by  Catholics.  But  this  could  hardly 
be,  as  there  were  fifteen  Catholics  among  those  who  per¬ 
ished.  Still  religious  hatred,  doubtless,  added  intensity  to 
the  desire  for  revenge.  These  cruelties  would  have  been 
avoided,  had  the  insurrection  been  accompanied  by  a 
Trench  invasion.  Indifferent  to  all  religion,  the  French 
would  never  have  permitted  persecution  for  religion’s 
sake.  This  was  fully  proved  afterward  in  the  invasion  of 
Humbert. 

It  is  but  justice  to  add,  that  the  officers  did  all  in  their 
power  to  check  these  atrocities.  The  next  day  a  proclama¬ 
tion  Avas  issued,  denouncing  death  to  “Avhoever  should 
kill  or  murder  any  person  or  prisoner,  or  set  fire  to  any 


MASSACRES. 


249 


house,  or  commit  any  plunder,  without  special  vmiten 
orders  from  the  commander-in-chief.” 

But  the  passions  of  the  infuriated  people  could  not 
always  he  restrained.  In  spite  of  orders  and  guards,  a 
similar  tragedy  took  place  a  few  days  after  at  W exford. 
That  town  was  thronged  by  people  flying  from  the  country 
round,  who  all  had  some  tale  to  tell  of  the  cruelty  of  the 
soldiery.  One  man  had  been  flogged;  another’s  house 
had  been  burned,  and  his  children  driven  to  beggary; 
another  bewailed  -with  piteous  cries  his  murdered  father. 
The  multitude  were  goaded  to  indescribable  fury.  They 
raged  for  revenge  against  the  loyalists  who  were  in  their 
power.  In  vain  some  men  of  humanity  tried  to  calm 
them,  and  to  persuade  them  to  give  the  prisoners  the 
chance  of  a  trial.  “  What  trial,”  they  exclaimed,  “  did 
we,  or  our  friends  and  relations  obtain,  when  some  were 
hanged,  or  shot,  and  others  whipped,  or  otherwise  tortured ; 
our  houses  burned,  and  ourselves  hunted  like  mad  dogs.”* 
Alas,  this  reasoning  would  have  some  force,  if  it  were  pos¬ 
sible  to  single  out  the  authors  of  these  atrocities,  and 
punish  them  as  they  deserved.  But  an  exasperated  mul¬ 
titude  do  not  stop  to  discriminate,  and  the  innocent  often 
perished  with  the  guilty.  The  clamor  of  the  weeping  and 
raging  populace  swelled  louder.  They  rushed  to  the  jail, 
and  brought  out  the  prisoners  to  the  bridge,  and  thirty- 
fivef  who  were  pointed  out  as  Orangemen,  or  as  having 
taken  part  against  the  people,  were  piked  to  death. 

We  can  not  sufficiently  express  our  horror  at  these 

*  Hay’s  Wexford  Insurrection, 
f  Hay.  Musgrave  gives  a  much  larger  number. 

L* 


250 


THE  REBELLION. 


massacres  in  cold  blood.  Yet  they  were  not  more  atrocious 
than  the  butchery  of  unarmed  peasants  by  the  soldiery. 
The  massacres  of  the  troops  were  less  to  be  excused,  for 
they  were  under  military  discipline,  and  might  have  been 
restrained.  Indeed,  indignantly  as  we  reprobate  burning 
and  massacre,  we  are  hardly  surprised  at  these  explosions 
of  popular  fury.  They  were  measures  of  retaliation.  The 
king’s  troops  burned  the  villages  of  the  peasantry.  The 
people  retaliated  by  firing  the  country-seats  of  noblemen 
and  the  gentry.  Scarcely  a  man  of  the  insurgents  but  had 
some  friend  murdered.  They  saw  corpses  lying  by  the 
roadside.  Their  cabins  were  blazing  behind  them.  Arid 
it  is  not  strange  that  their  exasperation  was  sometimes 
beyond  control. 

The  massacre  of  Bloody  Friday,  near  Gorey,  was 
directly  provoked  by  a  body  of  cavalry,  who  had  just 
scoured  the  country,  shooting  down  the  peasants  whom 
they  met.  In  their  revenge  it  is  expressly  said,  that  “no 
women  or  children  were  injured,  because  the  rebels,  who 
professed  to  act  on  a  plan  of  retaliation,  found,  on  inquiry, 
that  no  women  or  children  of  then’  party  had  been 
hurt.”* 

While  this  sanguinary  struggle  was  going  on  in  Wex¬ 
ford,  where  were  the  men  of  Ulster  ?  They  had  consti¬ 
tuted  the  strength  of  the  United  Irishmen.  Where  were 
they  in  the  hour  of  battle?  Had  they  been  at  this 
moment  in  the  field,  the  struggle  might  have  terminated 
in  the  independence  of  Ireland.  But  the  arrest  of  the 
leaders  had  disconcerted  all  the  plans  of  rebellion.  Com- 

*  Gordon’s  History,  p.  192. 


THE  ARMIES  CONVERGING. 


251 


munication  was  cut  off  between  different  parts  of  the 
country.  No  one  was  allowed  to  travel  without  a  passport. 
At  the  same  time  government  could  spread  its  own  report 
of  the  war.  It  was  said  the  contest  at  the  south  was 
taking  a  religious  character.  Exaggerated  stories  were  told 
of  cruelties  practiced  by  the  rebels  upon  Protestants.  This 
chilled  the  enthusiasm  of  the  United  Irishmen  of  the 
north,  and  they  laid  on  their  arms  while  their  brethren 
were  in  the  field.  They  struck  indeed  one  sudden  and 
heavy  blow.  An  insurrectionary  army  appeared  near 
Antrim.  A  battle  was  fought,  and  they  were  victorious. 
The  town  was  carried.  But  their  want  of  discipline  soon 
lost  what  their  valor  had  gained.  The  town  was  retaken 
the  same  day.  Several  bloody  engagements  followed  in 
the  adjoining  county  of  Down.  But  the  rising  was  not 
general,  and  was  soon  suppressed.  Thus  the  great  province 
of  Ulster,  though  restless  and  agitated,  was  kept  back 
from  open  war. 

The  government  was  therefore  free  to  concentrate  its 
whole  strength  upon  a  single  county.  The  result  between 
forces  so  disproportioned  could  not  be  doubtful.  The 
fleets  of  England  floated  over  army  after  army  to  the 
shores  of  her  sister  island.  The  men  of  Wexford  stood 
alone.  Twice  had  they  striven  to  burst  the  barriers  of  the 
foe,  and  carry  the  war  into  other  parts  of  Ireland.  But 
the  two  great  defeats  of  Arklow  and  Boss  had  kept  the 
Rebellion  from  spreading  beyond  the  mountains  of  Wex¬ 
ford.  And  now  the  English  began  to  close  around  the 
game.  The  royal  armies  drew  together  to  surround  the 
stronghold  of  the  Rebellion  on  Vinegar  Hill.  This  posi- 


252 


THE  REBELLION. 


tion  the  insurgents  had  occupied  for  three  weeks.  Four 
different  armies  now  moved  toward  it.  The  rebel  lead¬ 
ers  called  in  their  detachments.  An  express  was  sent 
off  with  all  speed  to  Wexford  for  reinforcements.  The 
encampment  at  the  Three  Eocks  was  commanded  at  this 
time  by  Eev.  Philip  Eoche,  a  boisterous  priest,  a  man  of 
great  stature  and  courage,  and  not  destitute  of  military 
capacity.  But  Father  Eoche  had  his  hands  full.  At  the 
same  time  that  four  divisions  of  the  royal  army  were 
drawing  around  Vinegar  Hill,  Sir  John  Moore  was  ad¬ 
vancing  upon  Wexford.  Father  Eoche  marched  resolutely 
to  meet  him.  As  they  passed  to  the  battle,  old  men, 
women,  and  children  lined  the  roadside,  who  fell  upon  their 
knees,  and  prayed  for  their  success.  The  battle  was  long 
and  bloody.  The  rebels  showed  more  discipline  than  in 
any  previous  action  of  the  war.  Their  force  was  numeri¬ 
cally  superior,  but  from  the  broken  nature  of  the  ground 
but  a  part  could  be  brought  into  action,  so  that  the  forces 
actually  engaged  on  either  side  were  about  equal.  Thus 
fairly  matched,  the  battle  was  sustained  with  unflinching 
steadiness  for  four  hours.  The  rebels  at  last  gave  way, 
but  not  until  their  ammunition  was  exhausted.  They  had 
fired  their  last  shot,  and  night  was  closing  around  them, 
when  they  drew  off  from  the  field. 

The  same  afternoon  the  divisions  designed  to  attack 
Vinegar  Hill,  approached  the  scene  of  conflict.  General 
Lake,  the  commander-in-chief,  encamped  within  two  miles. 
From  the  plain  below,  it  was  easy  to  see  that  the  Irish 
forces  were  in  motion  on  the  top  of  the  hill.  A  priest  of 


BATTLE  OF  VINEGAR  HILL. 


253 


giant  stature  was  particularly  noticed,  as  lie  was  dressed 
with  a  cimeter  and  broad  cross-belts,  and  was  mounted  on 
a  large  horse,  and  riding  from  one  part  of  the  camp  to  an¬ 
other,  apparently  to  reconnoiter  the  enemy.  A  council  of 
the  chiefs  was  called,  at  which  it  was  proposed  to  attack 
General  Lake  that  night.  Had  this  course  been  adopted, 
it  would  very  probably  have  been  successful.  The  insur¬ 
gents  would  have  had  great  advantages  in  a  night  attack. 
Rushing  in  with  their  pikes  upon  a  sleeping  camp,  they 
might  have  taken  the  foe  by  surprise.  In  the  confusion, 
discipline  could  be  very  imperfectly  maintained,  and 
the  contest  would  be  decided  by  hand-to-hand  fighting,  in 
which  the  Irish  from  their  greater  numbers  would  probably 
have  been  victorious.  Then  by  rapid  marches  they  might 
have  fallen  on  the  other  detachments,  and  destroyed  them 
in  detail.  But  the  Irish,  brave  to  desperation  by  daylight, 
had  a  strange  aversion  to  fighting  in  the  dark.  In  this 
democratic  army  nothing  could  be  done  against  the  will 
of  the  people,  and  the  leaders  were  thus  reluctantly  com¬ 
pelled  to  remain  in  them  encampment,  and  await  the  attack 
of  their  enemies. 

The  following  morning,  Thursday,  the  21st  of  June, 
the  long  scarlet  lines  of  the  British  infantry  were  seen  ad¬ 
vancing  in  battle  array.  The  different  divisions  embodied 
over  thirteen  thousand  effective  men,  with  a  formidable 
train  of  artillery.  The  battle  began  with  a  cannonade, 
which  was  so  heavy  that  it  was  heard  distinctly  at  Wex¬ 
ford.  Under  cover  of  their  batteries  the  several  columns 
moved  proudly  up  the  hill.  Some  hedges  ran  across  the 
slope,  from  behind  which  the  rebels  poured  in  a  deadly  fire. 


254 


THE  REBELLION. 


General  Lake’s  horse  was  shot  under  him,  still  the  troops, 
strong  in  numbers  and  in  discipline,  bore  np,  the  rebels  re¬ 
treating  slowly  as  they  advanced.  That  the  insurgents  by 
this  time  had  acquired  some  discipline,  is  evident  from  the 
fact  that  they  stood  the  assault  of  such  an  army  so  long. 
General  Lake,  in  his  account  of  the  battle,  says  that  “the 
rebels  maintained  their  ground  obstinately  for  an  hour  and 
a  half.”  At  length,  feeling  the  columns  pressing  against 
them  from  opposite  sides,  and  seeing  that  they  were  likely 
to  be  surrounded,  they  gave  way. 

The  war  might  have  terminated  here  with  the  surrender 
of  the  whole  rebel  army.  But  the  division  of  General 
Needham  failed  to  arrive  in  time  for  the  battle.  Thus  a 
wide  gap  was  left  in  the  line  which  was  to  surround  the 
mountain.  Through  this  the  insurgents  now  rushed  like  a 
torrent.  The  British  troops  marched  to  the  top  of  the 
hill.  But  the  enemy  had  disappeared.  The  battle  was 
gained,  but  the  prey  had  escaped.  And  while  the  victors 
occupied  the  heights  which  they  had  just  left,  the  war-cries 
of  the  foe  were  dying  away  far  to  the  south,  like  the  dis¬ 
tant  roaring  of  a  lion,  that  has  cleared  the  hunters  at  a 
bound,  and  is  retreating  through  the  forest. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 


Guerilla  Fighting  keit  up  in  the  Mountains. — Warlike  Character  of 
the  Irish. — Their  great  want  that  of  Able  Officers. — Death  of 
Fitzgerald. — Desolations  of  the  War. 

But  the  battle  was  lost,  and  with  that  went  down  the 
cause  of  the  Rebellion.  From  that  day  the  rebels  were  no 
more  able  to  meet  the  royal  armies  in  the  field.  F rom  the  first 
rising  in  Wexford  until  the  decisive  battle  of  Vinegar  Hill 
was  less  than  four  weeks,  with  such  rapidity  were  executed 
the  operations  of  this  short  but  bloody  campaign.  The 
same  day  Sir  John  Moore  marched  triumphantly  into  Wex¬ 
ford.  Thus  the  places  so  lately  thronged  with  the  forces 
of  the  Rebellion,  now  resounded  with  the  drums  of  the  vic¬ 
torious  soldiers. 

One  hope  only  remained — to  retire  into  the  mountains, 
and  keep  up  a  guerilla  warfare  until  aid  should  arrive 
from  France.  One  of  the  songs  of  the  period  ran — 

“Up  the  rocky  mountain,  and  down  the  boggy  glyn, 

We’ll  keep  them  in  agitation  until  the  French  come  in.” 

With  this  purpose  the  rebels  executed  a  rapid  retreat  into 
the  county  of  Kilkenny.  For  weeks  after  the  line  of  bat¬ 
tle  was  broken,  bands  of  savage  warriors  roamed  upon  the 


256 


THE  REBELLION. 


mountains,  eluding  tlie  enemy  by  tire  swiftness  of  their 
marches,  and  carrying  terror  through  the  land.  At  a  late 
day  Lord  Cornwallis  came  to  Ireland  with  an  offer  of  gen¬ 
eral  amnesty,  and  the  main  battalions  of  the  insurrection 
laid  down  their  arms.* 

Such  were  the  principal  events  of  this  memorable  civil 
war.  But  much  of  what  was  most  heroic  and  wild  and 
brave,  can  not  be  told.  The  combats  of  peasant  and  yeo¬ 
man  hand  to  hand,  the  conflicts  of  detached  bands,  were 
too  numerous  and  desultory  to  be  woven  into  a  connected 
tale.  Yain  were  it  to  recount  the  strifes  by  rock  and  glen. 
The  mountainous  character  of  the  country  afforded  peculiar 
facilities  for  a  guerilla  warfare.  Often  straggling  parties 
met  in  narrow  defiles,  and  instantly  rushed  to  the  shock  as 
those  who  would  neither  give  nor  take  quarter.  Some¬ 
times  peasants  crouched  in  ambush  beside  the  road  along 
which  poured  a  squadron  of  cavalry.  On  they  came,  their 
plumes  dancing  in  the  air,  when  suddenly  uprose  a  thou¬ 
sand  pikes.  The  bullets  flew  thick  like  hail.  Away  went 
the  foeman  and  his  steed.  One  shout,  one  rush,  and  all 
Avas  over : 

“  And  silence  settled,  deep  and  still, 

On  the  lone  wood  and  mighty  hill.” 


*  For  a  still  longer  time  small  bands  continued  to  ravage  the  country. 
One  party  lurking  in  the  woods  near  Enniscorthy,  called  themselves  Babes 
of  the  Wood.  Another  under  Holt  and  Hacket  concealed  themselves  in  the 
AVicklow  Mountains.  Issuing  from  their  fastnesses,  they  fell  suddenly  upon 
detached  villages,  firing  dwellings,  and  cutting  off  Orangemen  and  loyalists, 
and  retreating  swiftly  into  their  eagle’s  nest. 


WARLIKE  CHARACTER  OF  THE  IRISH.  2o7 


This  Rebellion  showed  fully  the  natural  warlike  charac¬ 
ter  of  the  Irish.  It  brought  to  view  many  military  traits, 
particularly  their  courage  and  physical  hardihood.  In  the 
heat  of  battle  the  Irish  were  brave  to  desperation.  With 
discipline  to  regulate  their  valor,  they  would  have  made 
invincible  soldiers.  But  left  to  themselves,  their  courage 
was  impulsive  rather  than  steady  and  obstinate.  They  at¬ 
tacked  with  impetuosity,  but  if  received  with  a  heavy  fire, 
their  ardor  often  turned  into  a  panic,  and  ended  in  flight. 
When  going  into  battle,  they  raised  their  hats  on  their 
pikes,  and  gave  a  shout  to  strike  terror  into  their  enemies. 
The  impulsive  character  of  the  Irish  was  amusingly  shown 
in  a  little  affair  after  the  battle  of  Arklow.  The  rebels  had 
taken  post  on  a  hill  near  Gorey.  Here  they  were  quite 
secure,  as  the  terror  of  their  arms  kept  the  royal  troops 
within  the  large  towns.  Wearied  with  this  inaction,  most 
of  the  insurgents  had  dispersed,  or  returned  to  the  camp  on 
Vinegar  Hill,  until  there  remained  not  more  than  a  hun¬ 
dred  men.  Thus  defenseless,  they  were  surprised  one  day 
by  the  approach  of  a  troop  of  horse.  Seized  with  a  panic, 
half  of  the  rebels  ran  away.  But  not  so  the  rest.  These 
stripped  themselves  to  their  shirts  that  they  might  be  more 
active  for  the  fight,  and  seizing  their  pikes,  they  ran  to  at¬ 
tack  the  foe  with  such  firry  that  the  yeomen  were  glad  to 
turn  their  horses’  heads  and  gallop  away.* 

Another  remarkable  feature  of  the  Irish  warfare  was 
the  rapidity  of  their  marches.  They  shot  across  the  coun¬ 
try  with  great  swiftness.  ISTo  veterans  could  have  borne 

*  Gordon’s  History,  p.  136. 


258 


THE  REBELLION. 


better  the  fatigues  of  a  campaign.  “  The  hardiness  and 
agility  of  the  laboring  classes/'  says  Gordon,  “  were  in  the 
course  of  the  rebellion  very  remarkable.  Their  swiftness 
of  foot,  and  activity  in  passing  over  brooks  and  ditches, 
were  such,  that  in  crossing  the  fields,  they  could  not  always 
be  overtaken  by  horsemen ;  and  with  so  much  strength  of 
constitution  were  they  found  to  be  endued,  that  to  kill 
them  was  difficult,  many  after  a  multitude  of  stabs,  not  ex¬ 
piring  until  their  necks  were  cut  across.  In  fact  the  num¬ 
ber  of  persons  who  in  the  various  battles,  massacres  and 
skirmishes  of  this  war,  were  shot  through  the  body,  and 
recovered  of  their  wounds,  has  greatly  surprised  me.”  By 
this  celerity  of  movement  they  long  baffled  the  royal 
troops,  and  kept  up  a  guerilla  warfare  in  the  mountains, 
when  they  could  no  longer  engage  in  pitched  battles. 

The  government  will  long  remember  the  men  of  Wex¬ 
ford.  Many  of  these,  being  fowlers  along  the  sea-board, 
were  excellent  marksmen. 

The  destruction  effected  in  two  months  showed  with 
what  desperation  they  fought.  The  loss  of  lives  was  im¬ 
mense.  In  that  time  there  fell  on  the  side  of  the  govern¬ 
ment  twenty  thousand,  and  of  the  people  fifty  thousand. 
But  courage  and  despair  could  not  avail  against  disci¬ 
plined  legions. 

Still  the  effort  which  it  cost  to  put  down  the  Rebellion 
in  a  single  county  renders  it  probable  that,  had  it  been 
general,  it  could  not  have  been  suppressed.  It  was  the 
opinion  of  the  ablest  general  then  in  Ireland,  Sir  John 
Moore,  that  had  the  French  landed  at  the  crisis  of  the  Re- 


DEATH  OF  FITZGERALD. 


259 


bellion,  the  result  would  probably  have  been  the  total 
overthrow  of  English  power  in  that  country. 

The  want  of  the  Irish  was  that  of  able  leaders.  They 
had  brave  officers.  But  they  needed  at  the  head  men  of 
military  skill  to  conduct  the  general  operations  of  the  war. 
Many  of  their  officers  were  Catholic  priests,  men  of  cour¬ 
age  and  resolution,  and  possessed  of  boundless  influence 
over  the  people,  but  not  skilled  in  the  art  of  war,  nor 
qualified  to  conduct  a  campaign. 

Had  Fitzgerald  led  on  the  rebellion,  the  result  might 
have  been  very  different.  One  sight  of  the  idol  of  the 
people  riding  along  the  lines  would  have  brought  their 
broken  ranks  into  battle  array.  His  name  would  have 
been  a  host. 

“  One  blast  upon  his  bugle-horn 
Were  worth  a  thousand  men.” 

He  would  have  saved  the  wasted  valor  of  the  Irish ;  the 
useless  sacrifice  of  lives.  The  blows  dealt  with  such  vio¬ 
lence  would  have  been  aimed  with  fatal  skill.  But  Fitz¬ 
gerald’s  days  of  battle  were  over. 

“No  sound  could  awake  him  to  glory  again.” 

At  the  very  moment  that  the  most  bloody  battles  of 
the  war  were  fought,  his  spirit  was  passing  through  an¬ 
other  strife.  Since  his  arrest,  though  dying  of  his  wound, 
not  a  friend  had  been  allowed  to  see  him.  Ho  entreaties 
could  avail  with  the  hearts  of  stone  which  then  ruled 
Ireland.  At  last,  as  he  approached  his  end,  his  brother 


260  THE  REBELLION. 

was  permitted  to  enter  his  cell.  Poor  Lord  Edward  was 
wandering.  But  the  sobs  and  kisses  of  bis  brother  re 
called  him  to  himself.  He  could  only  speak  in  whispers 
But  he  fixed  his  dying  eyes  upon  him  with  an  indescrib¬ 
able  look  of  affection.  He  said,  “I  knew  it  must  come  to  _ 
this,  and  we  must  all  go.”  But  he  murmured  not  at  his 
fate.  And  when  his  brother  knelt  down  by  his  bed,  and 
kissed  him  again  and  again,  he  returned  his  embrace  with 
a  tenderness  and  satisfaction  which  seemed  to  say  that 
now  he  was  ready  to  die.  That  same  night  he  ceased  to 
breathe. 

Fitzgerald  was  dead !  The  young,  the  brave,  the  high¬ 
born,  was  no  more.  Cold  as  marble  was  his  brow.  His 
eye  no  more  returned  the  kindly  glance.  His  hand  no 
more  felt  and  gave  the  friendly  grasp.  His  active  limbs 
were  straightened  for  the  grave.  Of  that  frame,  so  late 
full  of  exuberant  life,  all  that  remained  was  dust. 

From  one  end  of  Ireland  to  the  other  came  upon  the 
air  a  wail  of  sorrow.  When  the  hearse  turned  away  from 
the  prison,  bearing  the  noble  dead,  many  an  eye  was  wet 
with  tears.  All  classes  joined  in  this  feeling,  from  the 
royal  family  to  the  negro  servant.  “  George  IY.  on  his 
first  interview  with  the  afflicted  mother  of  his  friend,  is 
said  to  have  wept  with  all  the  tenderness  of  a  woman  in 
speaking  of  him.”  “Poor  Tony  never  held  up  his  head 
after  his  noble  master’s  death,  and  very  soon  followed 
him.” 

The  ardent  character  of  the  Irish  peasantry  was  fully 
shown  in  this  Rebellion — brave  in  battle,  fighting  like  a 
tiger  at  bay,  savage  in  their  revenge,  yet  affectionate  to 


DESOLATIONS  OP  THE  WAR. 


261 


their  friends,  and  faithful  to  the  last  to  their  cause.  They 
often  judged  hastily.  They  were  suspicious,  for  they  had 
suffered  long.  Toward  Orangemen,  whom  they  regarded 
as  their  exterminators,  they  were  implacable.  Their  camp 
exhibited  many  scenes  at  which  a  merciful  man  must 
shudder.  But  if  a  stranger  presented  himself,  who  had 
claims  to  their  hospitality,  or  who  had  suffered  in  their 
cause,  he  was  welcomed  with  the  enthusiasm  with  which 
Rob  Roy  was  greeted  by  his  clan.* 

Even  women  shared  the  universal  enthusiasm.  They 
followed  their  husbands  and  brothers  in  the  march.  And 
often  in  the  heat  of  battle,  they  were  seen  rushing  through 
the  smoke  of  conflict,  to  carry  cordials  to  the  wounded, 
and  to  support  the  heads  of  the  dying  on  their  faithful 
breasts. 

And  now  the  war  was  over.  The  blast  of  the  bugle 
called  home  the  pursuing  legions.  Peace  was  again  in  the 
land.  Seven  weeks  had  passed,  and  what  a  change !  A 
hurricane  had  swept  across  the  island.  Now  the  air  was 
still.  But  everywhere  the  eye  saw  marks  of  that  desolating 
track.  Many  a  village  was  in  ashes.  Fighting  was  ended, 
but  weeping  remained.  Sobs  were  heard  from  many  a 
lowly  cot.  Sons  and  brothers  were  gone.  The  spring  saw 
hem  “  full  of  lusty  life,” — the  midsummer  saw  them 
scattered  like  autumn  leaves.  Now  their  cabin  was  more 
lesolate  than  ever.  Many  a  father  came  not  back  from 
he  war.  The  peasant’s  wife,  whose  true  Irish  heart  led 
ler  at  night  to  the  field  of  the  unburied  slain,  recognized, 

*  See  Teeling’s  Personal  Narrative  of  the  Rebellion,  for  an  account  of  his 
>wn  reception  in  the  Irish  camp,  p.  183. 


262  THE  REBELLION. 

with  his  face  upturned  to  the  moon,  the  cold  clay  of  hin 
whom  she  had  followed  through  scenes  of  poverty  anc 
woe. 

Yet  the  memory  of  the  Rebellion  of  1798  is  still 
cherished  with  pride  among  the  peasantry  of  Ireland 
Tales  of  personal  heroism  are  transmitted  from  father  tc 
son.  And  melancholy  as  were  many  scenes  of  this  civil 
war,  disastrous  as  was  its  issue,  none  can  deny  to  those 
who  took  up  arms,  that  they  had  many  wrongs,  and  that 
they  fought  with  a  bravery  worthy  of  men  struggling  for 
liberty.  As  Lord  Chatham  said  of  the  civil  war  in  the 
time  of  Charles  I.,  “  There  was  mixed  with  the  public 
cause  in  that  struggle,  ambition,  sedition,  and  violence. 
But  no  man  will  persuade  me  that  it  was  not  the  cause 
of  liberty  on  the  one  side,  and  of  tyranny  on  the  other.” 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

New  French  Expedition. — Humbert  sails  without  Orders. — Lands  at 
Killala  in  the  North  of  Ireland — Takes  Possession  of  the  Town. — 
Is  quartered  in  the  Bishop’s  Palace. — Defeats  General  Lake  at  Cas¬ 
tlebar. — Surrenders  to  Cornwallis. 

Stationed  on  the  coast  of  France,  Tone  Fad  watched 
the  progress  of  the  Rebellion  with  impatience,  amounting 
to  agony.  .  His  hopes  had  been  raised  to  a  high  pitch  by 
the  formation  of  the  Army  of  England,  and  the  appoint¬ 
ment  of  Napoleon  to  the  command.  But  his  spirits  sunk 
as  he  saw  successive  divisions  of  this  magnificent  army 
suddenly  leave  the  north  of  France,  and  march  toward 
the  Mediterranean.*  On  the  20th  of  June,  Bonaparte 
sailed  from  Toulon  for  Egypt.  The  Rebellion  in  Ireland 
broke  out  three  days  after.  When  the  news  reached 
France  that  the  war  had  actually  begun,  Tone  urged  the 
Directory  to  hurry  off  an  expedition  with  all  speed.  His 
heart  was  faint  as  to  the  prospect  of  success.  Still  he  felt 
bound  to  make  every  exertion  to  help  his  countrymen,  and 
especially  now  that  they  were  exposed  to  the  hazards 

*  “  Poor  Hoclie  1”  writes  Tone.  “  It  is  now  that  we  feel  the  loss  of  his 
friendship  and  influence !  If  he  were  alive,  he  would  be  in  Ireland  in  a 
month,  if  he  went  only  with  his  staff  in  a  fishing-boat.  I  fear  we  shall  not 
easily  meet  with  his  fellow.” 


2C4 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


of  war.  An  armament  was  set  on  foot,  but  Carnot,  “  the 
organizer  of  victory,”  was  no  longer  in  power.  Tone  was 
called  up  to  Paris,  to  consult  with  the  ministers  of  the 
army  and  navy  on  the  organization  of  a  new  expedition. 
But  with  that  dilatoriness  which  now  marked  the  councils 
of  the  Directory,  it  was  delayed  for  weeks,  when  every  day 
was  precious.  At  length,  after  the  Rebellion  had  been 
crushed,  the  expedition  sailed. 

Even  now  it  might  have  effected  its  object,  but  for  the 
indiscretion  of  an  officer.  General  Humbert,  who  was 
appointed  to  command  a  division  of  the  invading  army, 
had  risen  from  the  ranks.  He  had  gained  some  distinction 
in  the  war  in  La  Vendee,  and  was  one  of  the  generals 
under  Hoche  in  the  Bantry  Bay  Expedition.  He  was  now 
stationed  at  Rochelle  with  eleven  hundred  men,  destined 
to  form  part  of  the  new  invasion.  Pie  waited  with  im¬ 
patience  for  the  order  to  embark.  But  from  week  to  week 
the  expedition  hung  along.  Meanwhile  refugees  from 
Ireland,  who  had  escaped  from  the  insurrection,  arrived  in 
great  numbers  in  the  French  ports,  with  their  blood  boiling 
from  battle.  Humbert  listened  with  eagerness  to  their 
tales.  His  spirit  chafed  with  impatience  at  the  delay.  He 
would  wait  no  longer.  He  called  on  the  merchants  and 
magistrates  of  Rochelle  to  advance  a  small  sum  of  money, 
marched  his  men  on  board  three  frigates  that  were  lying 
in  the  harbor,  and  compelled  the  captains  to  set  sail. 

This  small  force  reached  the  Irish  coast  in  safety.  On 
the  22d  of  August  they  arrived  off  the  harbor  of  Killala, 
in  the  county  of  Mayo,  in  the  north-west  part  of  Ireland. 
They  immediately  landed,  and  took  possession  of  the 


QUARTERS  IN  THE  BISHOP’S  PALACE.  265 


town.  Humbert  led  on  shore  70  officers  and  1030  men  ;  a 
force  about  as  diminutive  as  that  with  which  Cortez  under¬ 
took  the  conquest  of  Mexico. 

The  general,  -with  his  staff,  immediately  took  up  his 
quarters  in  the  bishop’s  palace.  This  reverend  dignitary 
had  expected  a  visitation  from  the  clergy  of  his  diocese, 
when  the  arrival  of  the  French  furnished  him  with  unex¬ 
pected  guests.  These  were  not  the  men  whom  he  had 
bidden  to  the  feast.  Still  they  seemed  disposed  to  make 
themselves  at  home,  and  to  be  agreeable.  At  first  he  was 
not  a  little  alarmed  at  this  irruption  of  barbarians.  But 
Humbert  begged  him  to  be  under  no  apprehension.  He 
should  be  treated  with  respect  and  attention,  and  his 
people  should  be  protected  in  their  property.  Nothing 
should  be  taken  by  the  French  troops  but  what  was 
ibsolutely  necessary  for  their  support, — a  promise  which, 
he  bishop  himself  says,  was  religiously  observed. 

Indeed  no  one  could  desire  from  a  hostile  force  a  more 
generous  treatment  than  that  which  he  received.  A  suite 
>f  apartments  in  the  palace  was  reserved  to  the  bishop  and 
lis  family;  and  no  one  was  allowed  to  disturb  their 
>rivacy.  Indeed  the  officers  seemed  particularly  anxious 
o  show  their  politeness.  In  the  town,  so  long  as  the 
Tench  remained,  the  strictest  discipline  was  preserved. 
7o  plunder  was  permitted,  no  persecution  of  Protestants 
y  the  Catholic  peasantry. 

Thus  relieved  of  his  fears,  the  bishop  had  opportunity 
D  observe  closely  this  foreign  army.  For  two  weeks  he 
iw  them  daily ;  and  a  narrative,  supposed  to  be  by  him, 
ornishes  minute  and  most  interesting  details  of  the  officers 

M 


266 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


and  soldiers.  He  says,  “  Intelligence,  activity,  temper 
ance,  patience,  to  a  surprising  degree,  appeared  to  be  com 
bined  in  the  soldiery  that  came  over  with  Humbert 
together  with  the  exactest  obedience  to  discipline.  Yel 
if  you  except  the  grenadiers,  they  bad  nothing  to  catch  th 
eye.  Their  stature  for  the  most  part  was  low,  their  com 
plexion  pale  and  sallow,  their  clothes  much  the  worse  fo 
the  wear ;  to  a  superficial  observer  they  would  have  ap 
peared  incapable  of  enduring  almost  any  hardship.  Thes 
were  the  men,  however,  of  whom  it  was  presently  obser-v 
ed,  that  they  could  be  well  content  to  live  on  bread  o 
potatoes,  to  drink  water,  to  make  the  stones  of  the  stree 
their  bed,  and  to  sleep  in  their  clothes,  with  no  covering 
but  the  canopy  of  heaven.  One  half  of  their  number  hat 
served  in  Italy  under  Bonaparte;  the  rest  were  of  th 
army  of  the  Khine,  where  they  had  suffered  distresses  tha 
well  accounted  for  their  thin  persons  and  wan  look 
Several  of  them  declared,  with  all  the  marks  of  sincerity 
that  at  the  siege  of  Mentz,  during  the  preceding  wintei 
they  had  for  a  long  time  slept  on  the  ground,  in  hole 
made  four  feet  deep  under  the  snow.  And  an  office: 
pointing  to  his  leather  small-clothes,  assured  the  bisho] 
that  he  had  not  taken  them  off  for  a  twelvemonth.”* 

Of  what  heterogeneous  materials  this  little  invading 
army  was  composed  is  seen  from  this  mention  of  fiv 
soldiers  that  lodged  in  one  house.  The  man  on  whon 
they  were  quartered,  thus  describes  his  guests : — “  Whe: 
they  entered  my  house,  I  implored  them  to  spare  the  live 
of  me  and  my  wife.  They  raised  us  from  our  knees,  an<j 

*  Gordon’s  History,  p.  306. 


CHARACTER  OF  HUMBERT’S  ARMY.  2G7 


said,  ‘  Vive !’  They  demanded  bread,  beef,  wine  and  beer, 
and  by  supplying  them  with  those  articles,  as  far  as  my 
purse  went,  I  obtained  their  good-will.  The  rebels  who 
•  accompanied  them  at  first  plundered  us  of  various  articles, 
but  one  day,  when  they  revisited  us,  I  alarmed  my  foreign 
inmates,  who  expelled  and  chastised  them  severely.  One 
of  them  was  from  Holland ;  I  gave  him  my  watch,  but  he 
kindly  returned  it.  Another  was  from  Paris,  was  mild, 
learned,  and  rather  silent ;  he  had  been  a  priest,  but  on 
the  overthrow  of  his  order,  became  a  soldier.  He  denied 
a  future  existence.  One  a  Spaniard,  was  as  intrepid  as 
Hannibal.  Since  the  age  of  fifteen  he  had  followed  the 
profession  of  a  soldier.  He  had  been  a  prisoner  in  Prussia, 
in  Paris,  and  in  London.  He  had  been  confined  in  a  dun¬ 
geon  at  Constantinople.  He  crossed  the  Alps  with  Bona¬ 
parte,  and  fought  under  him  in  Italy.  His  body,  head, 
and  face,  were  covered  with  wounds.  He  was  a  hard 
drinker,  a  great  swearer,  and  mocked  at  religion ;  and 
yet  he  was  very  fond  of  children,  and  never  entered  my 
apartment  without  inquiring  after  my  wife.  The  fourth 
was  from  Rochelle,  and  the  fifth  from  Toulon.”* 

But  an  army,  composed  of  such  materials,  was  likely  to 
prove  troublesome.  The  danger  was  imminent  of  a  new 
insurrection.  The  spirit  of  rebellion,  so  lately  quelled, 
started  up  again  at  the  least  prospect  of  revolution.  The 
peasants  in  great  numbers  flocked  to  the  invading  stan¬ 
dard.  A  camp  was  formed  in  the  bishop’s  meadows  near 
Killala.  The  French  furnished  the  peasants  with  arms, 
and  began  to  instruct  them  in  military  discipline. 

*  Sir  Richard  Musgrave’s  History,  vol.  ii.  p.  157. 


268 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


If  any  of  the  peasantry  thought  to  make  this  a  relij 
ious  Avar,  they  Avere  quite  disappointed.  The  Frenc’. 
officers  Avere  much  amused,  to  hear  their  Irish  recruits  sa; 
that  they  had  come  to  take  arms  for  France  and  for  th 
blessed  Virgin  !  They  replied  that  they  had  just  deposei 
Mr.  Pope  in  Italy,  and  did  not  expect  to  see  him  so  sooi 
in  Ireland. 

But  the  movement  gained  force  Avith  every  hour’ 
delay.  The  neAvs  that  the  French  had  effected  a  landinj 
soon  spread  through  Ireland,  and  set  the  Avhole  island  ill 
agitation,  blot  a  moment  Avas  to  be  lost.  Lord  Corn 
Avallis  prepared  to  march  against  the  enemy  in  person  a 
the  head  of  his  whole  army. 

A  body  of  four  thousand  men  was  soon  assembled  a 
Castlebar,  under  General  Lake,  the  conqueror  of  Vinega 
Hill.  This  was  far  on  the  northern  road,  and  in  a  positioi 
to  watch  or  attack  the  enemy.  But  Humbert  did  not  wai 
to  receive  the  English,  at  Killala.  Learning  the  positioi 
of  General  Lake  at  Castlebar,  he  left  a  garrison  of  tw< 
hundred  men  to  hold  Killala,  and  sallying  out  with  a  fore 
of  nine  hundred,  and  about  a  thousand  raw  Irish,  hi 
marched  Avith  great  celerity  to  the  south.  The  main  roac 
runs  direct  to  Castlebar.  He  had  given  out  that  he  shoulc 
march  by  this  route.  The  news  soon  reached  the  ears  ol 
spies  that  Avere  lurking  about  the  camp,  who  lost  no  tim< 
in  conveying  it  to  the  enemy.  A  heavy  force  was  accord 
ingly  thrown  forward  to  intercept  him.  He  left  Killah 
just  at  evening,  filing  out,  as  he  had  declared  his  intention 
on  the  main  road.  On  this  he  advanced  some  distance 
when  suddenly  he  turned  to  the  right,  and  struck  into  tht 


BATTLE  OF  CASTLEBAR. 


269 


mountains.  He  now  found  himself  in  a  circuitous  road 
■which  was  almost  impassable  for  artillery.  It  led  through 
a  narrow  defile  where  a  single  company  with  a  field-piece, 
could  have  stopped  the  advance  of  his  whole  army.  But 
the  British  generals  no  more  thought  that  the  French 
would  advance  in  that  direction,  than  that  they  would 
drop  down  from  the  sky. 

It  was  hardly  daybreak  next  morning  when  a  yeoman, 
who  had  been  out  to  look  after  his  farm,  came  galloping 
into  Castlebar  with  a  report  that  a  large  body  of  men  in 
blue  clothes,  were  advancing  on  the  road  from  the  moun¬ 
tains.  “  What  were  these  which  came  in  such  question¬ 
able  shape?”  The  general  was  instantly  in  his  saddle, 
and  attended  by  a  few  dragoons  rode  forward  to  recon- 
noiter.  He  had  gone  about  three  miles,  when  he  saw  the 
advanced  guard  of  the  French  sweeping  up  the  road.  A 
report  of  fire-arms,  and  bullets  whistling  past,  admonished 
him  to  change  his  course.  He  wheeled  his  horse,  and 
general  and  troopers  spurred  back  to  town  faster  than  they 
came. 

How  all  was  bustle  in  the  camp.  The  drum  beat  to 
arms.  The  garrison  was  marched  out  of  town  to  a  rising 
ground,  which  gave  them  an  advantageous  position  front¬ 
ing  the  enemy.  Scarcely  were  they  drawn  up  in  battle 
array,  before  the  French  columns  were  seen  advancing. 
When  drawn  out  in  line  to  face  the  four  thousand  English 
troops,  the  little  French  army  made  but  a  slim  figure. 
They  were  weary  with  a  toilsome  night’s  march,  while  the 
English  were  as  fresh  as  if  drawn  up  on  parade.  Their 
batteries  were  in  position,  and  began  to  thunder  across  the 


2Y0 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


field.  Several  shot  struck  tlie  French  line,  and  caused  it 
to  fall  back.  But  they  had  no  thought  of  retreating.  “In 
a  short  time,  they  were  perceived  deploying  from  the 
center,  which  was  performed  in  a  quick,  masterly  style, 
with  the  files  very  open.”  The  rapid  evolutions  of  the 
French,  and  their  bold  front,  struck  terror  into  their  ene¬ 
mies.  Suddenly  the  English  troops  were  seized  with  a 
panic.  As  the  French  advanced,  they  broke,  and  in  spite 
of  every  effort  of  their  officers  to  rally  them,  ran  for  life. 
They  rushed  through  the  town,  and  continued  their  flight 
with  such  rapidity  that  they  reached  Tuam,  thirty  miles 
distant,  the  same  night.  They  left  fourteen  pieces  of 
artillery  in  the  hands  of  the  French. 

The  defeat  was  indeed  most  disgraceful.  The  effects 
might  have  been  disastrous  to  English  rule  in  Ireland,  if 
Lord  Cornwallis  had  not  been  advancing  with  a  powerful 
army.  Humbert  was  now  obliged  to  stand  upon  the  defense. 
He  retreated  behind  the  Shannon,  and  held  out  until  the 
8th  of  September.  It  was  not  until  he  was  surrounded  by 
nearly  thirty  thousand  troops,  that  he  surrendered.  If  an 
officer  of  but  ordinary  military  talent,  with  one  thousand 
Frenchmen,  could  so  alarm  the  whole  island,  how  long 
would  the  Irish  government  have  stood  against  Hoche, 
with  his  fifteen  thousand  veterans  ? 


CHAPTER  XXIV. 


Last  Expedition  of  Tone. — Captured  in  a  Naval  Engagement. — Trial 
before  a  Court  Martial. — Curran’s  Efforts  to  save  him. — Sentence. — 
Last  Letter  to  his  Wife. — Death. 


The  progress  of  events  now  brings  to  tbe  theater  of  war 
the  moving  spirit  of  the  revolution.  The  precipitancy  of 
Humbert  in  sailing  without  orders,  threw  the  Directory  into 
the  greatest  perplexity.  They  must  openly  desert  him,  or 
support  him  by  an  immediate  reinforcement.  It  had  been 
designed  that  the  expedition  should  consist  of  nine  thou¬ 
sand  men,  but  time  was  more  important  than  numbers,  and 
as  soon  as  three  thousand  could  be  assembled,  they  were 
embarked  on  board  a  squadron  consisting  of  one  line-of- 
battle  ship,  eight  frigates,  and  one  schooner,  and  sailed  for 
Ireland.  Tone  felt  that  the  attempt  with  such  a  force  Avas 
desperate,  but  he  had  always  said  that  if  but  a  corporal’s 
guard  went,  he  should  go  with  them.  He  was  on  board 
the  Hoche,  a  seventy-four,  with  the  admiral.  It  was  on 
the  20th  of  September,  1798,  that  he  bade  adieu  to  the 
shores  of  France,  Avhich  he  was  never  to  see  again. 

Admiral  Bompart  was  an  excellent  seaman,  and  once 
out  of  port,  he  sailed  away  far  into  the  Atlantic,  making  a 
broad  sweep  to  the  west,  to  avoid  the  English  fleets.  After 


272 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


twenty  days  lie  came  round  on  the  extreme  north  of  Ire¬ 
land,  as  the  Bantry  Bay  expedition  was  destined  for  the 
extreme  south.  They  were  now  off  the  mouth  of  Lough 
Swilly,  which  leads  up  toward  the  city  of  Londonderry. 
But  the  land  was  awake.  Humbert’s  expedition  had  just 
struck  terror  through  the  island.  The  panic  had  not  yet 
subsided.  The  appearance  of  strange  ships  off  the  coast 
instantly  renewed  the  alarm.  Scarcely  had  the  French 
fleet  come  in  sight  of  land  before  it  was  signaled.  From 
hill  to  hill  the  sign  of  danger  flew.  English  ships  of  war 
were  constantly  “prowling  like  guardian  giants  around  the 
coast,”  and  the  next  morning,  before  the  troops  could  be 
landed,  the  squadron  of  Admiral  Warren,  consisting  of  six 
sail  of  the  line,  one  razee  of  sixty  guns  and  two  frigates, 
was  seen  bearing  down  upon  them.  There  was  no  chance 
for  the  seventy-four  to  escape.  Bompart  signaled  to  the 
smaller  ships  to  retreat  through  shallow  water.  At  the 
last  moment  a  boat  came  from  the  Biche,  a  schooner,  to 
receive  his  orders.  This  was  his  smallest  vessel,  and  had 
the  best  chance  to  get  off.  The  French  officers  urged  Tone 
to  escape  on  board  of  her.  “Our  contest,”  they  said,  “is 
hopeless ;  we  shall  be  prisoners  of  war,  but  what  will  be¬ 
come  of  you?”  “Shall  it  be  said,”  replied  Tone,  “that  I 
fled  while  the  French  were  fighting  the  battles  of  my  coun¬ 
try?”  No,  he  would  stand  or  fall  upon  that  deck. 

Having  first  cared  for  the  safety  of  the  other  ships, 
Bompart  prepared  alone  to  sustain  the  honor  of  France. 
The  flag  soared  to  the  main-peak.  The  ship  was  cleared 
for  action.  Bulkheads  were  knocked  down  to  leave  a  clear 
space  for  her  batteries.  The  guns  were  run  out.  Bows 


NAVAL  ENGAGEMENT. 


273 


of  seamen  stood  along  the  decks,  with  powder  and  ball, 
and  blazing  matches  in  their  hands. 

Now  ensued  one  of  the  most  terrible  battles  ever  fought 
on  the  ocean.  Part  of  the  British  squadron  had  been  sent 
in  chase  of  the  flying  frigates.  But  four  sail  of  the  line 
and  a  frigate  surrounded  the  Hoche.  The  undaunted 
Frenchman  commanded  his  batteries  to  open  their  fire. 
The  ship  quivered  under  the  thunders  of  her  triple  deck. 
But  she  was  answered  by  the  broadsides  of  a  whole  squad¬ 
ron.  The  shot  whizzed  through  the  rigging.  Down  came 
mast  and  spar.  Again  they  crashed  through  the  timbers 
of  the  ship.  Her  ribs  of  oak  yawned  to  the  inrushing  sea. 
Men  at  the  guns  slipped  up  in  their  comrades’  blood.  The 
gangways  were  choked  with  seamen  carrying  down  ship¬ 
mates  with  their  arms  and  legs  shot  away.  The  cockpit 
was  crowded  with  the  dying. 

For  six  long  hours  the  spectators  on  the  neighboring 
shores  watched  the  combat.  At  length  the  firing  ceased. 
Every  gun  was  dismounted,  every  mast  shot  away.  The 
French  flag  dropped  beside  the  wreck.  But  it  simk  that 
day  in  glory  on  the  sea. 

During  the  action  Tone  commanded  a  battery,  and 
fought  with  the  desperation  of  a  man  who  courts  death. 
But  thus  often  is  it,  that  those  who  madly  seek  for  Death, 
he  shuns. 

When  the  ship  was  taken,  Tone  passed  among  the  offi¬ 
cers  without  being  discovered,  for  he  had  become  a  French¬ 
man  in  his  appearance  and  language.  It  was  known  from 
the  journals  of  Paris  that  he  was  in  the  expedition,  and  on 
board  the  Hoche,  but  the  impression  passed  through  the 


274 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


fleet  that  lie  liad  fallen  in  tlie  engagement.  Perhaps  the 
British  officers,  with  the  generosity  of  brave  men,  were  not 
too  curious  in  inquiring  into  the  matter.  At  length  the 
prisoners  were  taken  on  shore,  and  an  old  fellow-student  of 
Tone  at  Trinity  College,  Sir  George  Hill,  undertook  to 
discover  the  arch  rebel.  The  officers  were  all  invited  to 
breakfast  with  the  Earl  of  Cavan.  While  seated  together, 
this  gentleman  entered  the  room,  followed  by  police  offi¬ 
cers.  Examining  narrowly  the  faces  of  those  before  him, 
he  singled  out  the  object  of  his  search,  and  stepping  up, 
said,  “  Mr.  Tone,  I  am  very  happy  to  see  you.”  Tone  rose, 
and  replied  with  perfect  composure:  ;‘Sir  George,  I  am 
happy  to  see  you ;  how  are  Lady  Hill  and  your  family  ?” 
He  was  beckoned  into  another  room,  ironed,  mounted  on 
horseback,  under  an  escort  of  dragoons,  and  hurried  away 
to  Dublin. 

A  court-martial  was  soon  assembled.  On  the  day  of 
his  trial  the  neighborhood  of  the  barracks  where  he  was 
confined  was  crowded  with  spectators,  and  as  soon  as  the 
doors  of  the  court-room  were  thrown  open,  they  rushed  in 
and  filled  every  corner  of  the  hall. 

Tone  appeared  in  the  uniform  of  a  Chef-de-brigade. 
The  court  were  struck  with  his  intrepid  bearing.  They 
had  his  life  in  their  hands,  but  they  could  not  shake  the 
firmness  of  his  mind. 

The  judge-advocate  proceeded  to  read  the  charges 
against  the  prisoner,  of  levying  war  traitorously  against 
his  majesty,  and  closed  by  asking  whether  he  pleaded 
guilty  or  not  guilty. 

Tone  replied,  “  I  mean  not  to  give  the  court  any  use- 


TONE’S  DEFENSE  OF  HIS  COURSE.  2*75 


less  trouble,  and  wish  to  spare  them  the  idle  task  of  ex¬ 
amining  witnesses.  I  admit  all  the  facts  alledged,  and  only 
request  leave  to  read  an  address  which  I  have  prepared  for 
the  occasion.” 

An  officer  interposed — “  I  must  warn  the  prisoner,  that, 
in  acknowledging  those  facts,  he  admits  to  his  prejudice 
that  he  has  acted  traitorously  against  his  majesty.  Is  such 
his  intention  ?  ” 

“  Stripping  this  charge  of  the  technicality  of  its  terms, 
it  means,  I  presume,  by  the  word  1  traitorously’  that  I  have 
been  found  in  arms  against  the  soldiers  of  the  king  in  my 
native  country.  I  admit  this  accusation  in  its  most  ex¬ 
tended  sense,  and  request  again  to  explain  to  the  court  the 
reasons  and  motives  of  my  conduct.” 

He  proceeded  to  vindicate  his  political  course,  not  to 
change  the  decision  of  the  court,  for  that  he  knew  was 
already  determined,  but  as  a  last  appeal  to  the  judgment 
of  his  country  and  of  posterity.  He  declared  frankly  that 
he  had  meditated  much  on  the  political  state  of  Ireland, 
and  that  he  saw  no  hope  of  amelioration  but  by  a  separa¬ 
tion  from  England.  The  connection  with  Great  Britain  he 
regarded  as  the  curse  of  the  Irish  nation,  and  felt  convinced 
that  while  it  lasted,  his  country  could  not  be  free  nor 
happy.  Therefore  he  struggled  openly  to  break  that  con¬ 
nection,  and  to  deliver  his  land  from  bondage.  Finding 
her  bound  hand  and  foot,  he  had  sought  in  a  foreign  power 
for  aid  to  begin  the  work  of  revolution.  He  designed  by 
fair  and  open  war,  to  procure  the  separation  of  the  two 
countries.  Without  money,  without  friends,  or  interest  of 
any  kind,  by  his  bold  and  disinterested  devotion  to  the 


276  THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 

liberation  of  Ireland,  be  bad  raised  bimself  to  tbe  con¬ 
fidence  of  tbe  French  government,  and  to  a  bigb  place  in 
their  armies.  To  attain  that  object  be  bad  given  np  all 
tbe  hopes  of  bis  yontb.  “  I  have  sacrificed,”  be  said,  “  all 
my  views  in  life ;  I  have  courted  poverty ;  I  have  left  a 
beloved  wife  unprotected,  and  children  whom  I  adored, 
fatherless.  After  such  sacrifices,  in  a  cause  which  I  have 
always  conscientiously  considered  as  tbe  cause  of  justice 
and  freedom,  it  is  no  great  effort,  at  this  day,  to  add  tbe 
sacrifice  of  my  life.” 

Still  be  knew  that  with  tbe  multitude  such  self-devotion 
is  little  regarded,  Avhen  not  followed  by  successful  revolu¬ 
tion.  “  In  a  cause  like  this  success  is  every  thing.  Success, 
in  tbe  eyes  of  tbe  vulgar,  fixes  its  merits.  Washington 
succeeded,  and  Kosciusko  failed.” 

His  address  throughout  breathed  a  bigb  disdain  of  any 
subterfuge  by  which  bis  life  could  be  saved.  “  As  to  tbe 
connection  between  this  country  and  Great  Britain,  I 
repeat  it,  all  that  has  been  imputed  to  me,  words,  writings, 
and  actions,  I  here  deliberately  avow.  I  have  spoken  and 
acted  with  reflection,  and  on  principle,  and  am  ready  to 
meet  tbe  consequences.  Whatever  be  tbe  sentence  of  this 
court,  I  am  prepared  for  it.  Its  members  will  surely 
discharge  their  duty.  I  shall  take  care  not  to  be  wanting 
to  mine.” 

Tbe  calmness  and  dignity  of  this  address  awed  bis 
judges.  For  some  moments  tbe  court  sat  in  silence.  Tbe 
audience  stood  in  breathless  expectation.  At  length  Tone 
spoke  to  request  a  favor  of  tbe  court.  In  France  tbe 
emigrants  who  bad  served  against  their  country,  were 


THE  SENTENCE. 


2Y7 


adjudged  to  a  soldier’s  death.  He  requested  that  the  same 
favor  might  he  accorded  him,  and  that  he  might  be  shot  by 
a  file  of  grenadiers.  Even  this  was  denied.  He  was  sen¬ 
tenced  to  be  executed  in  forty-eight  hours. 

This  sentence  was  manifestly  unjust.  Tone  was  not  a 
subject  of  his  Britannic  Majesty,  and  could  not  be  tried 
for  treason.  He  was  a  subject  of  France,  an  officer  in  the 
French  army,  and  entitled  to  the  rights  of  a  prisoner  of 
war.  Had  the  execution  been  delayed,  the  French  govern¬ 
ment  would  have  reclaimed  him.  In  fact,  as  soon  as  the 
news  of  his  capture  reached  Paris,  the  Directory  did 
reclaim  him,  but  it  was  too  late.  It  is  a  curious  fact,  that, 
when  Carnot  was  in  power,  he  had  detained  Sir  Sidney 
Smith  as  a  prisoner  of  war,  to  serve  as  a  hostage  in  such  an 
event  as  that  which  now  occurred.  But  that  brave  officer 
had  escaped  from  the  Temple,  and  found  his  way  to 
Egypt,  there  to  defeat  the  gigantic  schemes  of  Napoleon 
by  his  memorable  defense  of  Acre.  A  year  after  the 
death  of  Tone,  the  famous  Napper  Tandy,  an  Irish  officer, 
who  held  rank  in  the  French  army,  was  seized  at  Ham¬ 
burg,  and  perfidiously  delivered  up  to  the  English  govern¬ 
ment.  He  was  threatened  with  death.  But  Bonaparte 
was  then  first  consul.  He  immediately  reclaimed  his 
officer,  and  named  an  English  prisoner  of  equal  rank  to 
answer  with  his  life  for  his  safety.  At  the  same  time  he 
imposed  a  heavy  fine  upon  the  city  of  Hamburg  for  their 
breach  of  neutrality,  in  giving  up  a  French  officer.  Tandy 
was  soon  exchanged,  and  lived  and  died  in  the  French 
service. 

But  the  men  who  now  ruled  Ireland  did  not  care  for 


218 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


justice.  They  had  at  last  in  their  power  their  great  enemy, 
— the  man  who  had  stirred  up  the  spirit  of  revolution,  and 
who  had  projected  three  foreign  invasions, — and  they  Avere 
too  anxious  to  put  him  out  of  the  way  to  listen  to  reason, 
or  to  stop  at  forms  of  law. 

At  this  moment,  when  terror  palsied  every  tongue, 
Curran,  to  his  immortal  honor,  stepped  forward  to  defend 
Tone.  Sampson  had  been  released  from  prison,  on  con¬ 
dition  of  leaving  the  country,  and  was  then  awaiting  a  ship 
to  convey  him  to  Portugal.  Almost  every  day,  while 
Tone  was  confined  in  Dublin  barracks,  Curran  was  at 
Sampson’s  house,  devising  means  to  save  him.  His  object 
was  to  get  the  case  before  a  civil  court.  There  was  no 
reason  why  martial  law  should  be  longer  enforced.  The 
rebellion  was  over.  The  war  was  ended.  Was  then  the 
reign  of  terror  to  continue  ?  Or  was  that  of  law  and  order 
to  begin  ?  The  Court  of  King’s  Bench  was  then  sitting  in 
Dublin.  If  Tone  had  been  guilty  of  treason,  that  was  the 
great  criminal  court  of  the  land,  before  which  he  should 
be  brought. 

On  the  very  day  appointed  for  the  execution,  Curran 
appeared  in  court,  leading  up  the  aged  father  of  Tone.  He 
presented  a  motion  to  arrest  the  sentence.  Lord  Kil warden, 
who  sat  on  the  bench,  was  a  great  lover  of  justice,  and  he 
instantly  ordered  a  writ  of  habeas  corpus  to  bring  Tone 
before  the  court.  The  sheriff  proceeded  to  the  barracks, 
but  the  officers  refused  to  obey  the  requisition.  The  court 
was  thrown  into  the  greatest  agitation.  It  seemed  probable 
that  Tone  would  be  led  out  to  execution  in  defiance  of  the 
laws.  Lord  Kilwarden  ordered  the  sheriff  to  take  the 


LAST  LETTER  TO  HIS  WIFE. 


279 


officers  into  custody.  He  proceeded  again  to  the  barracks, 
but  could  not  obtain  admission.  He,  however,  brought 
back  word  that  Tone  had  committed  suicide. 

The  circumstances  of  Tone’s  death  were  strikingly 
similar  to  those  of  the  late  Count  Batthiany  of  Hungary. 
Both,  it  was  fated,  should  complete  the  evidence  of  devo¬ 
tion  to  their  country  by  the  sacrifice  of  life.  To  neither 
was  it  permitted  to  fall  in  the  front  of  honorable  battle. 
Both  requested  as  a  last  favor  that  they  might  die  a 
soldier’s  death.  Both  attempted  suicide. 

Tone  did  not  wish  to  survive  his  country.  Now  that 
the  last  hope  of  revolution  had  failed,  it  was  his  time  to 
die.  His  enemies  had  made  an  altar  of  his  ruined  country, 
and  with  a  calm  step  he  ascended  the  funeral  pile.  One 
pang  alone  shot  across  his  breast.  It  was  the  thought  of 
his  wife  and  children.  After  writing  to  the  Directory  of 
France,  and  to  several  companions  in  arms,  to  commend 
his  family  to  their  care,  he  thus  addressed  his  wife : — 

“  Dearest  love, — The  hour  is  at  last  come  when  we 
must  part.  As  no  words  can  express  what  I  feel  for  you 
and  our  children,  I  shall  not  attempt  it ;  complaint  of  any 
kind  would  be  beneath  your  courage  and  mine ;  be  as¬ 
sured  I  will  die  as  I  have  lived,  and  that  you  will  have  no 
•'use  to  blush  for  me. 

“  I  have  written  on  your  behalf  to  the  French  govern¬ 
ment,  to  the  minister  of  marine,  to  Gen.  Kilmaine  and  to 
Mr.  Shee  ;  with  the  latter  I  wish  you  especially  to  advise. 
In  Ireland  I  have  'written  to  your  brother  Harry,  and  to 


280 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


those  of  my  friends  who  are  about  to  go  into  exile,  and 
who,  I  am  sure,  will  not  abandon  you. 

“  Adieu,  dearest  love.  I  find  it  impossible  to  finish 
this  letter.  Give  my  love  to  Mary,  and  above  all  things 
remember  that  you  are  now  the  only  parent  of  our  dearest 
children,  and  that  the  best  proof  that  you  can  give  of  your 
affection  for  me,  will  be  to  preserve  yourself  for  their  edu¬ 
cation.  God  Almighty  bless  you  all. 

“Yours  ever,  T.  W.  Tone.” 

In  a  second  letter  he  says,  “Keep  your  courage  as  I 
have  kept  mine  ;  my  mind  is  as  tranquil  this  moment  as 
at  any  period  of  my  life.” 

On  the  night  of  the  11th  of  November,  it  is  said,  that 
from  his  windows  he  could  see  and  hear  the  soldiers  erect¬ 
ing  the  gallows.  The  next  day  was  appointed  for  his  exe¬ 
cution.  But  that  morning  he  was  discovered  by  the  sen¬ 
try  to  have  inflicted  a  deep  wound  upon  his  neck.  A  sur¬ 
geon  was  called  in  who  stopped  the  blood,  so  that  he  did 
not  immediately  expire.  Seven  days  he  lay  dying.  Not 
a  friend  was  suffered  to  approach  him.  He  lay  alone  with 
his  unconquerable  mind.  On  the  eighth  morning,  the  sur¬ 
geon,  who  bent  over  him,  whispered,  that  if  he  attempted 
to  move  or  speak,  he  must  expire  instantly.  Tone  faintly 
murmured  in  reply,  “  I  can  yet  find  words  to  thank  you, 
sir ;  it  is  the  most  welcome  news  you  could  give  me. 
"VVhat  should  I  wish  to  live  for  ?”  With  these  words  his 
heroic  spirit  passed  away.* 

*  The  members  of  this  family  seemed  doomed  to  a  tragical  fate.  Of  six¬ 
teen  children,  but  five  lived  to  maturity,  four  sons  and  one  daughter,  all  of 


FATE  OF  TONE’S  FAMILY. 


281 


■whom  were  destined  to  be  wanderers  in  the  world  and  to  an  early  death. 
Matthew  was  a  captain  of  grenadiers  in  Humbert’s  expedition.  He  was 
taken  prisoner,  tried  for  high  treason,  and  executed  in  Dublin  barracks. 
Two  months  later  Theobald  died  as  above  related  near  the  same  spot. 
William  had  gone  to  India,  and  entered  the  service  of  the  Mahrattas.  He 
rose  to  the  rank  of  major,  and  commanded  a  free  corps  composed  of  adven¬ 
turers  of  all  nations.  He  was  killed  in  storming  a  fort  in  one  of  the  Indian 
wars.  Arthur,  a  beautiful  boy,  had  accompanied  his  brother  to  America. 
On  his  return  he  entered  the  Dutch  navy,  under  the  patronage  of  Admiral 
De  Winter.  Here  he  became  a  universal  favorite.  He  was  in  several 
battles,  and  distinguished  himself  by  his  bravery.  He  was  another  Casa- 
bianca.*  Being  taken  prisoner  he  was  discovered  by  an  Irish  officer  in  a 
corner  of  the  ship,  weeping  over  an  account  of  his  brother’s  death.  By  the 
assistance  of  this  kind-hearted  countryman  he  made  his  escape.  At  eighteen 
he  commanded  a  frigate.  He  sailed  for  the  East  Indies,  and  was  never 
heard  of.  He  is  supposed  to  have  perished  at  sea.  Mary,  who  had  married 
a  Swiss  merchant,  accompanied  him  to  the  West  Indies,  and  died  at  St. 
Domingo.  None  of  them  reached  thirty-six  years  of  age.  Their  mother 
survived  them  all.  The  only  living  descendant  of  this  family  now  resides  in 
New  York. 


*  “  The  boy  stood  on  the  burning  deck, 

Whence  all  but  him  had  fled  ; 

The  flames  that  lit  the  battle’s  wreck, 

Shone  round  him  o’er  the  dead.” 

Mrs.  Heman’s  Poems. 


CHAPTER  XXV. 


Lord  Cornwallis. — Fate  of  the  State  Prisoners. — Compromise  proposed 
by  Government. — Examination  before  a  Secret  Committee. — Mitiga¬ 
tions  of  Captivity. — Emmet’s  Wife  and  Sister. — The  Prisoners  are 
sent  to  Fort  George  in  Scotland.  —  Liberated  at  the  Peace  of 
Amiens. 

The  coming  of  Lord  Cornwallis  saved  Ireland  to  Great 
Britain.  Again  we  meet  a  military  chieftain  distinguished 
in  America.  The  new  Lord  Lieutenant  was  the  same 
whose  surrender  at  Yorktown  terminated  the  war  of  the 
Revolution.  As  we  had  occasion  to  admire  the  character 
of  our  gallant  foes,  Earl  Moira  and  Lord  Edward  Fitz¬ 
gerald,  and  to  see  them  afterward  fighting  in  the  cause  of 
liberty,  so  Cornwallis,  though  he  led  armies  against  us, 
deserves  to  be  remembered  in  history,  as  a  most  humane 
and  honorable  man.  His  arrival  in  Ireland  was  hailed  as 
the  advent  of  peace  and  order  in  a  distracted  land.  Even 
the  poor  peasantry,  whose  sympathies  had  been  all  with 
the  Rebellion,  were  glad  to  have  Ireland  governed  by  a 
plain-dealing,  straight-forward  soldier.  They  said,  “  Sure, 
this  is  a  brave  man  they’ve  sint  us  now ;  he  holds  the 
swoord  of  war  and  the  swoord  of  pace,  and  sure  we  may  do 
as  we  like  now.” 

But  he  had  a  great  work  to  bring  things  into  order. 


CHARACTER  OF  LORD  CORNWALLIS.  283 


He  soon  found  out  the  wretched  misgovernment  of 
Ireland.  But  all  the  officers  in  power,  from  the  ministers 
to  the  hired  informer,  seemed  leagued  against  him.  They 
resisted  every  measure  of  conciliation  and  redress.  They 
wanted  fire  and  slaughter  still  to  ravage  the  land.  They 
concealed  from  their  chief  whatever  was  likely  to  reflect 
on  their  own  corruption  or  cruelty.  But  Lord  Cornwallis 
had  long  been  accustomed  to  rule  in  the  camp,  and  he 
soon  made  them  feel  that  they  had  a  master.  He  speedily 
found  out  the  iniquity  of  the  courts,  and  the  cruelties  of 
the  soldiery ;  and  he  raged  in  a  style  of  imperial  indigna¬ 
tion. 

An  instance  of  the  courage  and  hmnanity  of  this  noble¬ 
man,  and  of  his  horror  at  the  shocking  brutalities  of  the 
military,  occurred  soon  after  he  entered  on  the  office  of 
Lord  Lieutenant. 

In  October  of  ’98,  when  the  Rebellion  was  crushed, 
and  there  was  no  longer  any  excuse  for  severity,  a  yeoman 
of  the  name  of  Hugh  Wollaglian,  entered  the  cabin  of  a 
peasant,  and  seeing  a  sickly  boy,  said  to  him,  “You  dog, 
you  are  to  die  here.”  His  mother  screamed  out  to  him 
not  to  murder  her  son.  But  he  coolly  drew  up  his  gun, 
and  discharged  it  into  his  body.  The  boy  staggered  to¬ 
ward  his  mother,  saying,  “  Pray  for  me.”  Wollaglian  left 
the  house,  but  soon  returned,  and  said,  “  Is  not  the  dog 
dead  yet?”  and  shot  him  again,  when  he  fell  and  died. 

The  barbarity  of  this  murder  was  too  great  to  be 
passed  over,  even  by  the  king’s  officers.  Wollaglian  was 
brought  before  a  court-martial  in  Dublin  barracks.  The 
fact  of  the  murder  was  not  denied.  But  he  was  acquitted 


284 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


on  the  ground  that  orders  had  been  given  to  the  corps, 
that  if  they  should  meet  with  any  rebels  whom  they  knew, 
or  suspected  to  be  such,  they  need  not  be  at  the  trouble  of 
bringing  them  in,  but  might  shoot  them  on  the  spot. 

The  blood  of  Lord  Cornwallis  boiled  when  he  heard 
of  this  unrighteous  decision.  He  immediately  wrote  to 
the  commanding  officer,  that  “he  entirely  disapproved  of 
the  sentence  of  the  court-martial  acquitting  Hugh  Wolla- 
ghan  of  a  cruel  and  deliberate  murder,  of  which  by  the 
clearest  evidence  he  had  been  guilty.”  He  ordered  “that 
the  court-martial  should  be  immediately  dissolved — and 
that  Hugh  Wollaghan  should  be  dismissed  from  the  corps 
of  yeomanry  in  which  he  served ;  and  that  he  should  not 
be  received  into  any  other  corps  of  yeomanry  in  the  king¬ 
dom.  This  order  he  directed  to  be  read  to  the  president 
and  members  of  the  court-martial  in  ojnen  court.” 

He  also  directed  that  a  new  court-martial  should  be 
immediately  convened  for  the  trial  of  other  prisoners ;  and 
that  none  of  the  officers  who  sat  upon  Hugh  Wollaghan 
be  admitted  as  members. 

It  was  now  a  question  with  the  government  what  should 
be  done  with  the  state-prisoners.  The  appetite  for  blood 
had  been  glutted  with  executions.  Lord  Cornwallis,  the 
new  viceroy,  was  anxious  for  conciliation.  It  was  pro¬ 
posed  to  the  prisoners  to  grant  a  general  amnesty,  on  con¬ 
dition  that  they  should  disclose  the  organization  and  plans 
of  the  United  Irishmen.  The  prisoners  on  their  part  had 
no  longer  any  motive  for  concealment,  since  the  Rebellion 
had  failed.  Indeed,  they  might  be  glad  to  have  an  authen¬ 
tic  account  of  their  designs  to  go  forth  from  themselves, 


FATE  OF  THE  S  T  ATE  -  PR  IS  0  NE  R  S. 


285 


ratlier  than  to  be  represented  bj  their  enemies.  They 
were  further  urged  to  this  by  the  desire  of  saving  their 
countrymen,  who  were  decimated  by  executions.  Two  of 
their  companions,  Byrne  and  Bond,  were  already  under 
sentence  of  death.  Byrne  had  been  offered  his  life  on  con¬ 
dition  of  saying  something  to  criminate  Lord  Edward  Fitz¬ 
gerald,  now  in  his  grave.  If  any  man  could  be  excused 
for  saving  himself  at  the  expense  of  a  calumny  on  the  dead, 
it  was  Byrne.  He  was  but  twenty-one  years  old.  He  had 
just  been  married,  and  had  every  motive  to  cling  to  life. 
But  he  spurned  this  base  proposal  with  scorn,  and  perished 
on  the  scaffold. 

This  execution  thrilled  the  prisoners  with  horror. 
Bond’s  execution  was  fixed  for  the  next  day.  The  scaffold 
was  erected.  The  coffin  stood  in  the  yard.  The  prisoners 
could  hesitate  no  longer.  They  felt  bound  to  yield  every 
thing  but  their  honor,  to  stop  the  farther  shedding  of  blood. 
The  proposition  of  the  government  was  first  brought  to  the 
prison  by  Secretary  Cooke.  Hr.  McNeven  replied  in  his 
blunt  way  that,  until  they  had  the  assurance  of  Lord  Corn¬ 
wallis,  they  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  it.  Accord¬ 
ingly  three  of  the  prisoners,  Arthur  O’Connor,  Emmet  and 
McNeven,  who  were  deputed  to  act  for  the  whole,  were 
brought  up  to  the  Castle,  and  had  an  interview  with  the 
Lord  Lieutenant  in  person  surrounded  by  his  ministers. 
Castlereagh  proposed  that  they  shoidd  disclose  the  names 
of  their  confederates.  This  they  indignantly  refused.  If 
that  was  insisted  on,  they  declared  that  there  was  an  end 
of  the  negotiation.  They  were  willing  to  give  full  infor¬ 
mation  of  the  plans  of  the  United  Irishmen,  and  of  all  that 


286 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


liad  passed  between  tbem  and  foreign  states,  but  they  would 
not  implicate  individuals.  This  was  finally  agreed  to. 
The  prisoners  then  expressed  their  fears  that,  after  they 
had  made  their  disclosures,  the  government  would  not  act 
in  good  faith.  Lord  Clare  replied,  “  Gentlemen,  it  comes 
to  this,  you  must  trust  to  us,  or  we  must  trust  to  you :  but 
a  government  that  would  break  its  faith  with  you  could 
not  stand,  and  ought  not  to  be  allowed  to  stand.”  The 
government  was  pledged  to  act  with  honor.  A  general 
amnesty  should  be  proclaimed.  And  the  prisoners  them¬ 
selves  should  be  released  on  condition  of  going  to  the 
United  States. 

The  effect  of  this  agreement  was  happy  in  allaying  the 
agitation  of  the  country.  It  was  at  once  published  to  the 
small  bodies  of  insurgents  still  in  arms,  who  upon  this 
discontinued  the  now  hopeless  struggle.  The  deputies, 
O’Connor,  Emmet,  and  McbTeven,  drew  up  the  memoir, 
and  presented  it  to  the  government.  Lord  Cornwallis  read 
and  returned  it,  saying  that  he  could  not  receive  it,  un¬ 
less  some  passages  were  expunged,  as  it  was  a  justification 
of  the  United  Irishmen.  The  prisoners  would  not  alter  it, 
as  it  contained  only  the  truth.  They  suggested,  however, 
that  as  a  committee  of  the  House  of  Commons  was  sitting 
to  inquire  into  the  causes  of  the  Kebellion,  they  should  be 
examined  before  it.  This  was  done.  O’Connpr,  Emmet, 
and  McUeven  appeared  in  the  secret  committees  both  of 
the  Commons  and  of  the  Lords,  and  answered  every  in¬ 
quiry  with  great  frankness  and  candor.  “  Their  commu¬ 
nication  to  the  government,”  says  a  late  publication,  hos¬ 
tile  to  the  United  Irishmen,  “  appears  to  have  been  entire- 


STATE-PRISONERS  EXAMINED. 


287 


ly  faith-worthy  and  wholly  -unreserved.  The  pleading 
throughout  is  an  able  and  manly  one,  and  not  a  little  was 
lost  to  the  country,  when  imperative  necessity  demanded 
the  banishment  of  such  men.” 

They  did  not  affect  any  contrition  for  what  they  had 
done.  They  declared  the  -wrongs  of  Ireland  as  boldly  be¬ 
fore  the  men  who  had  done  those  wrongs,  as  they  had 
among  themselves.  When  Lord  Clare  asked,  “  Pray,  Mr. 
Emmet,  what  caused  the  late  insurrection  ?”  he  answered, 
“  The  free-quarters,  the  house-burnings,  the  tortures  and 
the  military  executions,  in  the  counties  of  Kildare,  Carlow, 
and  Wicklow.”  He  expressed  his  unaltered  conviction, 
that  though  this  attempt  had  failed,  Ireland  would  yet  be 
revolutionized  unless  the  wrongs  of  the  people  were  re¬ 
dressed.  When  asked,  “  Can  you  point  out  any  way  of  in¬ 
ducing  the  people  to  give  up  their  arms?”  he  replied,  “Re¬ 
dressing  their  grievances,  and  no  other.”  They  detailed 
their  organization,  political  and  military,  their  preparations 
for  war,  and  the  aid  they  expected  from  France.  The  gov¬ 
ernment  then  saw  what  a  gulf  they  had  escaped. 

They  were  also  undeceived  as  to  the  impression  they 
had  formed  of  these  blood-thirsty  conspirators.  Had  the 
Revolution  succeeded,  the  new  government  would  have 
permitted  no  assassinations.  Even  the  persons  of  their 
most  obnoxious  oppressors  they  would  only  have  sentenced 
to  banishment,  or  have  detained  as  hostages. 

The  whole  power  of  the  revolutionary  government 
would  have  been  directed  to  maintain  order,  to  restore  con¬ 
fidence,  and  to  reorganize  the  internal  administration  of 
Ireland  so  as  to  secure  the  good  of  her  people.  The  plan 


2SS 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


of  tlieir  new  political  institutions  was  fully  formed.  They 
would  have  abolished  titles  as  inconsistent  with  a  republi¬ 
can  government.  They  would  have  swept  away  the  es¬ 
tablished  church,  not  to  place  a  Catholic  establishment  in 
its  stead,  but  to  leave  all  on  the  same  level.  MciNeven 
being  a  Catholic,  was  questioned  particularly  on  this  point. 
Said  Lord  Kil warden,  “I  supppose  the  religious  establish¬ 
ment  would  be  abolished  with  the  titles.” 

“  I  suppose  it  would,”  said  McbTeven  promptly. 

"Would  you  not  set  up  another?” 

“  No,  indeed.”  “  Not  the  Roman  Catholic?”  “I  would 
no  more  consent  to  that  than  I  would  to  the  establishment 
of  Mohammedanism.”  “  What  would  you  do  then  ?”  “  That 
which  they  do  in  America ;  let  each  man  profess  the  re¬ 
ligion  of  his  conscience,  and  pay  his  own  pastor.”* 

Emmet  testified  very  strongly  to  the  same  effect.  Said 
Lord  Castlereagh,  “  Don’t  you  think  the  Catholics  would 
wish  to  set  up  a  Catholic  establishment  in  lieu  of  the  Prot¬ 
estant  one  ?” 

“  Indeed  I  don’t,”  said  Emmet;  “even  at  the  present 
day;  perhaps  some  old  priests,  who  have  long  groaned 
under  the  penal  laws,  might  wish  for  a  retribution  among 
themselves,  but  I  don’t  think  the  young  priests  would  wish 
for  it,  and  I  am  convinced  the  laity  would  not  submit  to  it.” 

The  main  object  of  the  new  government  would  be  to 
ameliorate  the  condition  of  the  peasantry,  by  diminishing 
the  rents  of  land,  by  opening  new  sources  of  trade. 
America,  they  said,  was  the  best  market  in  the  world,  and 
*  Lives  of  United  Irishmen,  Second  Series,  vol.  ii.  p.  248. 


DISCLOSURES  OF  THE  PRISONERS. 


289 


Ireland  the  best  situated  country  in  Europe  to  trade  with 
that  market.  Increased  commerce  would  give  employment 
to  the  people,  and  cause  wealth  and  plenty  to  flow  into  the 
land.  They  proposed  also  to  adopt  a  system  of  national 
education. 

If  a  better  plan  has  ever  been  devised  for  governing 
Ireland,  for  removing  its  poverty,  its  ignorance,  and  its 
discontent,  for  making  it  a  rich  and  happy  country,  we 
know  not  where  it  is  to  be  found. 

A  rumor  soon  got  abroad  that  the  prisoners  were 
negotiating  with  the  government ;  and  the  facts  were  much 
misrepresented.  Their  enemies  seemed  determined  to  give 
a  false  view  to  the  matter.  It  was  said  that  they  had  con¬ 
fessed  themselves  guilty  of  treason,  and  had  implored 
pardon.  A  garbled  report  of  their  disclosures  was  pub¬ 
lished,  in  which  the  government  took  the  liberty  to  conceal 
as  much  as  they  chose.  The  prisoners  thought  this  unjust. 
Arthur  O’Connor  wrote  to  Lord  Castlereagh,  stating  that 
his  evidence,  written  and  verbal,  composed  a  hundred 
pages,  of  which  but  one  was  published,  and  ninety-nine 
suppressed.  McNeven  complained  to  Lord  Clare  of  the 
same  liberties  taken  with  his  testimony.  He  says,  “  Lord 
Clare  did  not  deny  the  fact,  but  declared  very  roundly  I 
must  not  expect  they  would  publish  more  than  would 
answer  their  purpose.”  MdSTeven,  who  was  equally  blunt, 
seemed  pleased  with  the  frankness  of  this  reply,  whatever 
he  thought  of  its  justice.* 

*  See  the  letter  of  Thomas  Addis  Emmet  to  Rufus  King,  published  in 
America  in  1 801. 

T 


290 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


But  one  report  was  abroad  to  which  they  could  not  be 
silent.  It  was  said  that  they  had  betrayed  their  confeder¬ 
ates.  This  was  an  infamous  lie. 

The  prisoners  therefore  appealed  to  the  public.  They 
published  an  advertisement,  to  which  they  subscribed  their 
names,  protesting  against  the  government  reports  as  inac¬ 
curate  and  false.  They  denied  indignantly  that  they  had 
disclosed  the  name  of  a  single  United  Irishman.  This 
was  a  step  for  which  the  ministers  did  not  look,  and  it 
threw  them  into  a  rage.  A  debate  upon  it  sprung  up  the 
same  night  in  the  House  of  Commons,  and  so  violent  was 
the  government  faction,  that  an  Orangeman  proposed  that 
the  prisoners  should  be  taken  out  and  hung  without  trial. 
The  government  was,  however,  contented  with  remitting 
them  to  closer  custody. 

Even  this  rigorous  captivity,  however,  had  its  mitiga¬ 
tions.  Twenty  of  the  prisoners  were  confined  in  the  same 
jail.  The  cells  were  divided  from  each  other  by  a  hall. 
By  gaining  the  favor  of  a  keeper,  their  rooms  were  un¬ 
locked  at  night,  and  they  were  able  to  meet.  Here  they 
were  too  happy  to  stand  or  sit  on  the  cold  pavement,  en¬ 
joying  that  cheerful  conversation,  which  in  Irishmen  can 
not  long  be  repressed.  When  the  gray  light  of  morning 
gleamed  through  the  bars  of  the  prison,  they  returned 
quietly  to  their  rooms. 

Occasionally,  too,  those  weary  days  were  relieved  by 
softer  faces  and  voices  than  those  of  their  jailers.  Mrs. 
Emmet  had  been  admitted  to  see  her  husband.  Once  in 
his  room  she  declared  she  would  never  leave  it  so  long  as 
he  remained  a  prisoner.  The  attendants  ordered  her  to 


ACT  OF  THE  AMERICAN  MINISTER.  291 


retire.  But  slie  was  inflexible.  She  would  only  be  taken 
away  by  force.  This  the  keepers  did  not  dare  to  employ. 
This  heroic  woman  therefore  remained  with  her  husband 
for  twelve  months ;  never  in  all  that  period  leaving  the 
prison  but  once,  and  then  by  stealth,  and  with  the  conniv¬ 
ance  of  the  jailer’s  wife,  to  visit  a  sick  child. 

After  the  unreserved  communication  which  they  had 
made  to  the  government,  the  state-prisoners  confidently 
expected  to  be  set  at  liberty.  Lord  Castlereagh  acknowl¬ 
edged  that  they  had  honorably  fulfilled  their  part  of 
the  agreement.  It  remained  for  the  government  to  fulfill 
theirs. 

Still  weeks,  months  passed,  and  no  welcome  hand  came 
to  unbolt  their  doors.  At  length  they  were  told  that 
Rufus  King,  then  American  Minister  at  London,  had 
objected  to  their  being  sent  to  the  United  States.  The 
famous  alien  law  had  just  been  passed,  by  which  the 
President  was  empowered  to  exclude  from  this  country 
foreigners  who  might  be  considered  dangerous  to  its  tran¬ 
quillity.  An  impression  prevailed  in  England  that  the 
United  Irishmen  were  a  band  of  revolutionary  monsters, 
and  it  was  natural  that  Mr.  King  should  share  the  common 
opinion,  and  thence  infer  that  such  men  would  not  make 
peaceable  citizens  of  the  republic  of  the  new  world.  But 
the  suspicion  was  wholly  unfounded,  and  the  interference 
was  most  cruel.  It  was  made  the  excuse  for  years  of 
further  imprisonment. 

Early  in  1799,  when  twelve  months  had  passed  in 
weary  captivity,  an  order  suddenly  came  to  the  prisoners 


292 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


to  prepare  to  leave  Ireland  before  daylight  the  next  morn¬ 
ing.  What  now  was  to  be  their  fate  ?  Where  were  they 
to  go?  No  one  knew.  All  was  mystery.  Fortunately 
by  the  jailer’s  wife,  Emmet  was  able  to  send  word  to  his 
family.  It  was  evening  when  his  sister  came  to  the  prison 
to  be  folded  once  more  in  her  brother’s  arms, — an  embrace 
that  was  to  be  their  last ! 

It  was  late  at  night  when  she  tore  herself  away.  In 
the  streets  she  stood  alone,  with  a  heart  ready  to  break. 
But  the  courage  and  affection  of  woman  shine  forth  most 
in  danger.  She  instantly  took  a  carriage,  and  drove  to  the 
residence  of  the  Lord  Lieutenant.  With  no  introduction, 
she  immediately  presented  herself.  She  found  Lord  Corn¬ 
wallis  alone  with  his  wife.  Respectfully,  but  with  an 
earnestness  of  affection  which  belongs  only  to  woman,  she 
begged  to  know  what  was  to  become  of  her  brother. 
Where  was  he  to  go  ?  Into  exile,  or  to  the  scaffold  ?  The 
heart  of  Cornwallis  was  as  humane  as  it  was  brave.  The 
sight  of  a  beautiful  woman  pleading  for  her  brother  was 
too  much  for  the  heart  of  a  soldier.  He  wept.  His  lady 
wept  also.  In  the  kindest  voice  they  spoke  to  Miss 
Emmet  and  calmed  her  fears.  The  Lord  Lieutenant  said  he 
would  tell  her  all  he  could,  consistently  with  his  duty.  The 
place  to  which  her  brother  was  to  be  conveyed,  he  was  not 
at  liberty  to  disclose.  But  of  this  she  might  be  sure.  No 
harm  should  occur  to  him.  News  had  come  that  the 
French  were  about  to  make  a  descent  on  Ireland,  and  the 
prisoners  were  to  be  removed  to  a  place  of  safety.  But 
they  should  be  treated  with  entire  kindness. 

The  next  morning,  when  the  sun  rose,  they  were  all  on 


HAPPY  PRISON  DAYS. 


293 


board  ship,  twenty  in  number,  gliding  away  from  the 
green  shores  of  that  island, — associated  in  their  minds  with 
so  much  sorrow,  and  yet  remembered  with  so  much  affec¬ 
tion.  Sadly  they  turned  to  gaze  at  those  receding  shores, 
not  knowing  to  what  other  land  they  were  bound.  But 
soon  the  Highlands  of  Scotland  rose  in  sight. 

They  entered  the  Clyde,  and  landed  at  Greenock.  The 
prisoners  were  transported  to  Fort  George  on  the  north¬ 
eastern  coast  of  Scotland.  Here  was  to  be  their  home  for 
three  years. 

The  change  was  in  every  respect  for  the  better.  The 
commander  of  this  fortress  was  Col.  Stuart,  an  invalid 
officer,  who  had  served  abroad,  and  who  with  the  gener¬ 
osity  of  a  brave  man,  did  every  thing  to  relieve  the  weari¬ 
ness  of  their  situation.  When  they  came  he  told  them 
that  he  should  treat  them  as  gentlemen,  and  he  did  so — 
and  more.  He  was  a  father  to  them.  Whenever  they 
wished  to  go  beyond  the  limits  of  the  fort,  he  instantly 
gave  permission,  saying,  “  Go,  I  rely  entirely  upon  your 
honor,”  a  reliance  which  was  more  effectual  than  a  guard 
of  soldiers.  It  was  a  favorite  amusement  to  bathe  in  the 
sea.  American  and  other  foreign  vessels  were  frequently 
passing  near  the  shore,  and  it  were  an  easy  matter  to  swim 
off  to  one  and  escape.  But  no  one  dreamed  of  taking  such 
advantage  of  the  brave  old  soldier  who  had  granted  them 
this  privilege.  “  As  soon,”  said  Mr.  Emmet,  “  would  we 
have  committed  suicide.” 

Their  prison  life  was  on  the  whole  quite  happy.  Mrs. 
Emmet  was  permitted  to  join  her  husband,  bringing  their 
children  with  her.  The  prisoners  were  supplied  with 


294 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


books,  and  began  regular  courses  of  reading  and  study. 
Emmet  pm-sued  Mathematics  for  many  months.  He  after¬ 
ward  began  a  critical  study  of  Shakspeare.  He  did  not 
touch  a  law  book  for  the  whole  three  years.  Much  of  his 
time  was  occupied  in  teaching  his  children.  McNeven 
assisted  by  giving  them  instruction  in  French,  with  which, 
from  his  long  residence  in  Prague  and  Vienna,  he  was  per¬ 
fectly  familiar.  Mrs.  Emmet  made  the  acquaintance  of 
families  in  the  neighborhood,  and  when  she  went  to  pay 
them  visits,  Mr.  Emmet  was  permitted  to  accompany  her. 
Indeed  they  seemed  to  be  on  the  best  terms  with  every 
body.  The  conduct  of  Col.  Stuart  gave  tone  to  that  of  the 
garrison,  so  that  officers  and  privates  all  treated  them 
with  respect  and  kindness.  These  state-prisoners  had 
passed  through  stormy  scenes.  The  rugged  soldiers  who 
guarded  them  were  men  whose  business  was  war.  And 
yet  now  all  seemed  to  have  been  transported  to  a  valley  of 
peace,  from  which  every  bad  passion  was  excluded. 

At  length  the  sound  of  war  which  had  so  long  re¬ 
verberated  across  the  continent  ceased.  Cities  illumin¬ 
ated,  shouting  and  feasting,  and  ringing  bells,  proclaimed 
that  France  and  England  were  at  peace.  Then,  in  that 
moment  of  universal  joy,  there  came  to  the  Highlands  a 
message  for  the  liberation  of  the  Irish  state-prisoners. 

The  hour  at  last  had  come.  They  were  free.  There, 
off  the  shore,  lay  an  English  frigate  that  was  to  take  them 
away.  The  garrison  marched  out  and  escorted  them  down 
to  the  beach  with  waving  banners  and  joyful  acclamations. 
But  when  they  came  to  say  the  last  word,  it  was  hard  to 


THEY  ARE  LIBERATED. 


295 


part.  Their  eyes  were  full  as  they  took  the  hand  of  the 
brave  old  governor,  who  had  been  a  father  to  them  in 
their  captivity.  And  as  the  boat  bounded  over  the  waters, 
they  continued  to  wave  their  silent,  sad  farewell. 


CHAPTER 


X  X  Y  I . 


Sampson  is  liberated  from  Prison  on  Condition  of  going  into  Exile. — 
Sails  for  Portugal. — Shipwrecked. — Reaches  Oporto. — Is  seized  and 
imprisoned. — Sent  to  Lisbon. — Thrown  into  the  Dungeons  of  the  In¬ 
quisition. — Is  sent  to  Bourdeaux. — Residence  in  Paris. — Happier  Days. 

The  fate  of  Sampson  was  still  more  remarkable. 
From  the  day  that  be  was  thrown  into  prison,  his  constant 
demand  had  been  for  a  trial.  As  he  had  taken  no  part  in 
the  plots  against  the  government — as  he  was  not  even  a 
United  Irishman — he  knew  nothing  could  be  proved 
against  him.  Probably  the  government  knew  so  too,  and 
did  not  care  to  bring  to  trial  one  whose  acquittal  would 
cover  them  with  confusion.  When  the  agreement  with 
the  government  was  proposed,  he  had  no  personal  interest 
in  it  whatever,  for  his  life  was  in  no  danger.  But  with 
the  generosity  which  made  a  part  of  his  character,  he  in¬ 
stantly  sacrificed  himself  to  save  the  lives  of  others.  He 
engaged  to  go  into  exile,  on  condition  that  the  military 
executions,  which  were  decimating  his  countrymen,  should 
cease.  As  his  health  was  declining  in  prison,  he  was  re¬ 
leased  before  the  others  on  condition  of  going  to  Portugal. 
He  embarked,  and  three  days  after  was  shipwrecked  on 
the  coast  of  Wales.  Here  he  found  himself  an  object  of 


SAMPSON  GOES  TO  PORTUGAL. 


207 


suspicion  and  almost  of  terror,  from  the  impressions  which 
were  abroad  of  the  Irish  revolutionists.  Even  his  name 
conveyed  to  their  minds  the  idea  of  a  being  capable  of 
great  destruction.  A  military  officer  wrote  to  London  to 
ask  how  he  should  treat  this  dangerous  character,  and  re¬ 
ceived  directions  “to  observe,  but  not  to  molest  him.” 
After  his  long  confinement  he  found  an  exhilaration  in  the 
free  mountain  air.  lie  rambled  over  the  rocks  of  the 
country,  and  the  toil  of  the  day  made  welcome  the  bright 
fire  and  the  frugal  evening  meal.  “We  had  a  clean  fire¬ 
side,  and  that  cordial  pleasure  which  arises  from  past  toil. 
We  had  a  piper  to  play  to  us  at  dinner,  and  we  danced  to 
his  music  in  the  evening.”  The  simple  Welsh  were  kind 
and  hospitable,  and  when  they  had  got  over  the  dread  of 
so  terrible  a  personage,  manifested  a  sincere  attachment  for 
him,  so  that  it  was  with  a  feeling  of  regret  that,  after  a  de¬ 
tention  of  eight  weeks,  he  bade  adieu  to  their  mountains  to 
resume  his  voyage. 

At  Oporto  he  again  met  with  kindness.  An  English 
merchant,  to  whom  he  brought  letters,  with  that  generous 
hospitality  which  the  English  know  so  well  how  to  render, 
welcomed  him  to  his  heart  and  home.  In  the  novel 
scenes  of  a  strange  country  he  found  much  to  amuse  him, 
and  he  was  beginning  to  lead  a  quiet  and  pleasant  life, 
when  he  was  surprised  one  day  by  the  visit  of  an  officer 
with  a  party  of  armed  men,  who  seized  him  and  his  ser¬ 
vant,  and  commenced  a  search  for  papers,  turning  his 
baggage  upside  down,  and  shaking  out  every  article  of 
linen  in  the  hope  of  finding  some  concealed  writing.  The 
interpreter  told  him  that  he  was  arrested  by  order  of  the 

n* 


298 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


English  minister,  on  account  of  something  he  was  supposed 
to  be  writing.  His  papers  he  gave  up  without  hesitation, 
and  was  conducted  to  the  house  of  the  Corregidor.  Here 
he  was  lodged  in  the  style  which  became  a  prisoner  of 
state.  He  had  a  large  audience  hall  to  himself,  furnished 
with  a  guard,  and  seven  or  eight  servants  to  wait  at  break¬ 
fast  and  dinner.  His  poor  servant  meanwhile  was  thrown 
amid  the  malefactors  in  irons  below,  though  afterward,  at 
his  entreaty,  allowed  to  come  into  the  same  room  with 
himself. 

But  what  this  sudden  and  strange  imprisonment  was 
for,  was  a  mystery.  The  guards  about  him  conversed 
freely  on  every  other  subject  but  this.  At  first  they  told 
him  that  he  had  been  arrested  by  orders  from  the  King  of 
England.  Then  they  said  that  the  Queen  of  Portugal  did 
not  like  him.  Meanwhile  couriers  went  and  returned  from 
Lisbon;  and  he  was  told  that  his  fate  depended  on  the 
news  they  brought. 

It  was  now  proposed  to  him  to  go  to  Lisbon,  where  it 
was  said  he  should  see  the  English  and  Portuguese  minis¬ 
ters,  and  be  set  at  liberty.  His  friend  advised  him  to  ac¬ 
cede  to  this  arrangement,  as  the  most  speedy  way  of  coming 
to  an  explanation  with  the  authorities.  He  accordingly 
prepared  to  set  off  the  next  morning.  As  soon  as  he  was 
called  up,  he  looked  out  of  the  window,  and  perceived  an 
armed  escort  standing  before  the  door.  The  prospect  was 
dismal  enough,  but  to  an  Irishman  nothing  comes  amiss, 
and  he  found  much  to  amuse  him  on  the  journey.  A 
variety  of  travelers  joined  their  party,  so  that  they  formed 
quite  a  caravan.  Two  Dominican  friars  were  of  the  com- 


IMPRISONED  IN  THE  INQUISITION.  299 


pany,  with  whom  he  talked  Latin.  A  troupe  of  Italian 
comedians  —  comprising  men  and  women — fish-carriers 
carrying  eels  to  some  Hidalgo,  a  mulatto  woman  following 
her  husband,  a  soldier,  to  Lisbon,  and  a  poor  barefooted 
Gallego,  going  to  seek  for  work,  who  danced  and  sang  be¬ 
fore  them  the  whole  way.  Sampson  traveled  in  a  fitter 
hung  between  two  mules,  and  it  was  everywhere  given  out 
that  he  was  a  grandee  going  to  the  minister  of  state.  His 
servant  jogged  beside  him  on  a  mule.  Thus  in  a  kind  of 
ridiculous  pomp,  and  with  many  a  merry  laugh,  they 
traveled  along  the  road. 

At  length,  after  seven  days’  journey,  the  towers  of 
Lisbon  rose  in  sight.  Friars  and  comedians  took  their 
leave,  and  Sampson  entered  the  capital,  attended  only  by 
his  guard.  They  filed  through  long  streets,  and  at  last 
drew  up  before  a  dark,  frowning  wall  that  looked  like  a 
fortress.  The  windows  were  grated  with  iron,  through 
which  mournful  captives  were  looking  at  this  new  visitor. 
Where  was  he  ?  What  was  this  ?  But  he  had  no  time  to 
ask  questions.  Descending  from  his  fitter,  he  was  led 
through  long,  dreary  passages ;  a  bolt  was  drawn,  a  heavy 
iron  door  swung  open,  and  he  was  once  more  the  occupant 
of  a  dark,  noisome  cell.  He  was  in  the  Inquisition  ! 

His  situation  was  now  more  gloomy  than  ever.  He 
could  hear  no  friendly  voice.  The  only  sounds  which 
reached  his  ear  were  the  rattling  of  bolts,  the  clanking  of 
chains,  or  the  echo  of  some  footfall  along  the  passages  of 
the  prison.  Here  were  thieves  and  murderers,  and  prison¬ 
ers  of  state  ;  men  who  had  committed  all  crimes,  and  men 
who  had  committed  none.  Far  down  in  the  earth,  were 


300 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


dungeons  where  captives  languished,  and  sighed  in  vain  for 
liberty.  Here  men  had  grown  old.  Here  they  had  lived 
till  they  had  forgotten  their  very  names.  Here  too  he 
might  be  left  to  wear  away  life  till  his  hair  had  grown 
gray. 

Strange  to  tell,  one  of  his  predecessors  in  this  very  cell 
had  been  an  American  captain,  William  Atkinson  from 
Philadelphia.  Sampson  found  his  name  written  on  the 
wall  with  a  pencil.  He  had  been  secretly  confined  here 
for  some  time,  for  purchasing  a  barrel  of  gunpowder  which 
belonged  to  the  public  stores.  At  length,  when  his  money 
was  gone,  and  he  could  no  longer  fee  his  jailers,  they  be¬ 
thought  themselves  to  inquire  what  he  was  put  in  for,  and 
finding  the  trifling  nature  of  the  charge,  they  let  him  go. 

Sampson  would  have  had  no  anxiety  in  regard  to  him¬ 
self,  had  he  known  what  accusation  was  to  be  brought 
against  him.  But  the  mystery  with  which  he  Avas  sur¬ 
rounded  excited  his  worst  fears.  He  strongly  suspected 
that  foul  play  was  intended,  and  that  it  was  instigated  by 
those  who  had  persecuted  him  in  his  own  country.  All 
about  him  maintained  the  most  impenetrable  secrecy. 
Neither  from  his  jailers,  nor  from  the  officers  of  police, 
could  he  obtain  the  least  clue  to  the  crime  with  which  he 
was  charged,  nor  to  his  probable  fate.  At  one  time  a 
French  captain,  who  was  a  prisoner  of  war,  passing  the 
door  of  his  cell,  whispered  through  the  keyhole,  to  tell  him 
to  arm  himself  with  courage,  for  it  was  said  that  it  was  he 
who  had  made  the  revolution  in  Holland.  At  another  time 
he  heard,  that  he  was  to  be  sent  on  board  an  English  ship 
of  war  to  be  transported  to  a  prison-ship  at  Gibraltar. 


MYSTERY  OF  HIS  SITUATION. 


SOI 


He  soon  obtained  some  mitigation  of  bis  bard  captiv¬ 
ity.  He  was  transferred  to  a  larger  room,  where  be  bad  tbe 
company  of  a  young  Danish  nobleman.  They  were  intro¬ 
duced  to  each  other  as  two  grandees  of  dilferent  countries, 
but  for  tbe  present  under  a  common  misfortune.  At  length 
an  officer  of  tbe  police  came  to  tbe  prison  with  bis  papers, 
and  in  presence  of  tbe  jailer  delivered  them  safely  into  his 
band.  He  found  them  all  numbered  as  if  they  bad  served 
for  references,  and  from  certain  appearances,  Sampson 
thought  they  bad  recently  come  from  England.  Still 
there  was  no  talk  of  bis  liberation.  Tbe  mystery  of  bis 
situation  seemed  to  grow  darker.  One  night  be  was  dis¬ 
turbed  by  tbe  arrival  of  officers  of  tbe  police,  who  desired 
him  to  enter  a  carriage.  Whither  be  was  going  be  knew 
not.  Tbe  night  was  clear,  and  tbe  commanding  officer  en¬ 
deavored  to  amuse  him  by  pointing  out  objects  of  interest 
as  they  rode  through  tbe  streets,  perhaps  to  divert  tbe  pris¬ 
oner’s  thoughts  from  tbe  treachery  of  bis  keepers.  Tbe 
carriage  stopped  before  another  prison,  and  be  was  imme¬ 
diately  locked  up  in  a  foul,  dark  bole,  which  looked  more 
like  tbe  den  of  a  wild  beast  than  a  place  for  tbe  confine¬ 
ment  of  any  human  creature.  It  was  a  dungeon  about  as 
large  as  tbe  inside  of  a  coach.  A  faint  glimmer  of  light 
peered  through  a  small  orifice  pierced  in  a  wall  many 
feet  thick.  Even  this  narrow  aperture  was  partly  closed  by 
an  iron  grate.  In  this  stifling  cavern  be  was  left  to  ponder 
on  tbe  fate  that  was  probably  before  him.  But  in  bis  darkest 
hour  be  bad  one  alleviation,  in  tbe  attendance  of  bis  faith¬ 
ful  servant.  This  noble  fellow  never  murmured  at  bis  own 
lot.  All  bis  regrets  were  for  tbe  hardships  of  bis  master. 


302 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


His  jailers,  who  were  not  moved  by  pity,  generally 
were  by  money,  and  a  timely  present  now  obtained  his 
transfer  to  a  larger  room,  from  which  he  had  a  view  of  the 
sea.  This  was  a  great  relief  to  his  solitary  hours.  It  was 
a  happiness  even  to  look  upon  the  bounding  waters,  for 
they  at  least  were  free.  He  would  sit  by  the  window  for 
hours,  watching  the  ships  of  different  nations  going  to  sea, 
or  returning  from  their  voyages,  and  for  a  time  forget  the 
gloomy  walls  around  him.  Like  a  true  Irishman,  he 
found  consolation  also  in  the  eyes  of  some  fair  senoritas 
which  were  bent  upon  him  from  across  the  street.  Draw¬ 
ing  them  to  the  window  by  an  air  on  his  flute,  he  con¬ 
trived  signals  by  which  he  commenced  a  harmless  flirta¬ 
tion  with  these  Portuguese  maidens,  who  might  be  sup¬ 
posed  to  look  with  pity  on  the  sorrows  of  a  captive  knight. 
He  wrote  billets  and  shot  them  over  the  wall  with  a  bow 
and  arrows,  and  was  rewarded  with  glances  from  the 
young  senoritas  in  spite  of  a  watchful  father  and  a  harsh 
duenna. 

In  the  yard  of  the  prison  there  was  a  gate  which  led 
down  to  the  sea.  Through  this  he  had  often  seen  files  of 
convicts  led  away,  secured  each  by  an  iron  ring  about  his 
neck,  and  by  this  to  an  iron  bar  which  held  all  together  in 
a  row.  The  day  of  deliverance  at  length  came,  and  he 
was  ordered  on  board  a  ship  to  be  sent  out  of  the  country. 
Through  this  gloomy  gate  he  was  conducted  like  a  convict 
to  the  place  of  embarkation,  and  waving  his  hand  as  a 
farewell  to  the  pitying  maidens,  he  bade  adieu  to  the  land 
of  his  captivity. 

The  detail  of  his  adventures  during  his  several  im- 


IS  SENT  TO  PRANCE. 


303 


prisonments,  composes  a  volume  which,  has  been  published 
in  this  country  and  in  England.  In  reading  it  we  feel 
that  truth  is  stranger  than  fiction.* 

Of  this  mysterious  persecution  no  explanation  was  ever 
given.  Madden,  in  his  Lives  of  the  United  Irishmen,  sug¬ 
gests  the  following  clue  to  it.  There  had  been  in  Dublin  a 
gang  of  informers  kept  about  the  Castle,  known  as  the  bat¬ 
talion  of  testimony,  whose  business  it  was  to  find  or  make  evi¬ 
dence  against  any  individual  whom  the  government  wished 
to  destroy.  A  wretch  by  the  name  of  Bird,  who  had  been  a 
hired  informer,  smitten  with  remorse  for  his  crimes,  sent 
for  Sampson  to  make  a  confession  of  his  guilt,  and  of  the 
perjury  and  villainy  of  his  associates.  Sampson  went  in 
company  with  Mr.  Grattan.  In  their  presence  this  man 
wrote  out  a  full  confession  of  the  whole  system  of  iniquity 
practiced  by  the  spies  and  informers  of  the  government. 
The  document  was  put  into  the  hands  of  Sampson.  Some 
of  the  officials  obtained  knowledge  of  its  existence,  and 
they  could  not  doubt  that  it  would  soon  see  the  light.  To 
prevent  this  terrible  exposure  was  the  real  cause  of  his 
arrest  in  Portugal,  and  of  the  seizure  of  his  papers. 
Happily  the  dreaded  document  had  already  gone  out  of 
his  hands,  and  was  safely  kept  until  a  day  came  when  the 
truth  could  be  told. 

Once  more  upon  the  waves,  he  found  that  the  ship  was 
bound  for  Bourdeaux.  On  entering  France  he  was  again 

*  Several  members  of  Parliament  were  so  affected  by  the  perusal  of  Mr. 
Sampson’s  memoirs,  that  they  intended  to  move  for  a  reversal  of  the  Irish 
act  of  attainder,  when  circumstances  interposed  to  prevent  their  intention 
being  carried  into  effect. — Lives  of  the  United  Irishmen,  vol.  ii.  p.  388. 


304 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


threatened  with  arrest.  He  began  to  think  that  there  was 
no  place  on  earth  where  he  could  set  the  sole  of  his  foot. 
But  finding  who  he  was,  the  French  authorities  changed 
their  tone,  and  treated  him  with  marked  kindness.  He  re¬ 
mained  at  Bourdeaux  eighteen  months,  leading  a  retired 
but  not  unhappy  life.  Here  his  servant  died.  The  loss 
of  this  faithful  companion  of  his  fortunes  was  a  heavy 
blow.  His  tears  fell  fast  as  he  examined  the  dead  body, 
and  there  saw  the  marks  of  the  lash  which  he  had  suffered 
rather  than  betray  his  master.  For  many  days  he  could 
not  recover  from  the  sadness  caused  by  the  sufferings  and 
death  of  this  brave  and  faithful  heart.  His  mind  too  was 
anxious  about  his  family.  It  was  difficult  to  obtain  intelli¬ 
gence  of  them,  as  by  a  humane  act  of  Parliament,  it  had 
been  made  a  felony  to  correspond  with  him.  As  rumors 
of  peace  began  to  circulate,  he  came  on  to  Paris.  Here  his 
wife  joined  him,  and  his  life  became  once  more  domestic. 
Surrounded  by  his  family,  and  enjoying  the  friendship  of 
many  of  the  most  distinguished  men  of  that  time,  he 
passed  in  France  several  happy  years.  In  the  summer 
they  occupied  an  old  chateau  in  the  forest  of  Montmo¬ 
rency.  Their  winters  were  passed  in  the  society  of  the 
capital. 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

The  Union. — Proposal  to  abolish  the  Irish  Parliament. — Designs  of 
Pitt  and  Castlereagh. — Excuses  to  justify  the  Measure. — England 
in  Danger. — Union  carried  by  Bribery. — Promises  violated. — The 
Prosperity  of  Ireland  declines. — Absenteeism  of  Noblemen. — Effect 
on  the  Spirits  of  the  People. — The  Irish  Orators. — Grattan. — Mel¬ 
ancholy  of  Curran. 

During  these  years  of  imprisonment  and  exile,  a  po¬ 
litical  revolution  had  been  accomplished  in  Ireland. 

The  tragedy  of  the  Rebellion  was  over.  The  insur¬ 
rection  had  been  drowned  in  blood.  And  now  the  govern¬ 
ment  began  to  show  its  hand  more  openly.  Before,  when 
the  United  Irishmen  had  accused  the  party  in  power  of  a 
design  to  sell  the  independence  of  Ireland,  they  had  re¬ 
pelled  the  charge  with  patriotic  indignation.  But  now 
they  had  nothing  to  fear  from  the  disclosure  of  their 
treachery,  and  the  project  was  openly  announced  of  giving 
up  altogether  the  Irish  Parliament,  and  merging  the 
national  legislature  in  that  of  England. 

Pitt  had  long  been  suspected  of  a  design  to  consum¬ 
mate  a  union  with  Ireland,  such  as  had  before  been  made 
with  Scotland.  As  early  as  1797,  when  Dr.  McNeven  was 
in  Paris,  Carnot  told  him  that  the  Directory  understood 
Pitt’s  policy  in  his  vexatious  treatment  of  Ireland,  that 


306 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


Ms  object  was  to  force  that  country  to  give  up  its  Parlia¬ 
ment,  and  sink  its  independence  in  the  power  of  England. 
But  the  design  was  concealed  until  the  time  for  its  accom¬ 
plishment  had  come. 

The  man  who  most  distinguished  himself  in  this 
parricidal  work  was  Lord  Castlereagh,  himself  an  Irishman. 
Indeed  it  is  claimed  by  the  admirers  of  that  statesman  as 
the  great  act  of  his  life.  In  a  late  article  on  his  memoirs, 
the  North  British  Review  says,  “  The  great  measure  of 
Lord  Castlereagh,  and  that  on  which  his  fame  with  pos¬ 
terity  will  chiefly  rest,  is  the  Legislative  Union  between 
Great  Britain  and  Ireland.”  We  shall  not  dispute  his 
claim  to  that  “bad  eminence.”  He  was  Chief  Secretary 
for  Ireland  at  the  time,  and  could  be  mainly  instrumental 
in  carrying  the  measure.  We  are  told  in  his  Memoirs  that 
he  had  it  much  at  heart  to  put  on  record  the  history  of 
the  Union,  and  of  the  events  which  immediately  preceded 
it.  It  is  much  to  be  regretted  that  he  did  not  find  time  to 
execute  his  design.  We  should  then  have  known  what 
defense  he  had  to  make  to  the  world  for  the  betrayal  of  his 
country.  Perhaps,  however,  it  was  better  for  his  fame 
that  the  history  of  that  period  was  allowed  to  rest  in  the 
shade. 

Many  reasons  have  been  given  to  justify  the  measure 
of  Union.  The  Review  just  quoted,  declares  that  “  it  was 
impossible,  when  the  independence  of  the  Irish  Parliament 
was  established,  and  the  constitution  of  1782  obtained,  that 
the  alternative  of  Union  with  England,  or  absolute  separa¬ 
tion,  could  be  avoided.” 

It  must  be  confessed  that  the  condition  of  the  Empire 


UNION-CARRIED  BY  BRIBERY. 


307 


at  this  moment  was  most  critical.  England  was  at  war 
with  France.  A  great  coalition  was  being  formed  against 
her,  directed  by  the  genius  of  Napoleon.  At  the  same 
time  discontent  prevailed  in  Ireland.  The  flame  of  re¬ 
bellion  might  at  any  moment  burst  out  anew.  The  island 
was  threatened  with  a  French  invasion.  Not  only  the 
possession  of  Ireland,  but  the  safety  of  England,  was  at 
stake.  For  with  the  French  once  masters  of  a  kingdom 
in  her  rear,  England  would  be  surrounded  and  must  fall. 
“Vulnerable  in  Flanders,”  said  Grattan,  “vulnerable  in 
Holland,  she  is  mortal  here.  Here  will  be  the  engines  of 
war,  the  arsenal  of  the  French  artillery,  the  station  of  the 
French  navy,  and  through  this  wasted  and  disemboweled 
land  will  be  poured  the  fiery  contents  of  their  artillery.” 
|  England  thought  it  better  to  sacrifice  the  independence  of 
Ireland  than  to  endanger  her  own. 

So  long  as  the  Irish  Parliament  was  left  to  deliberate 
in  Dublin,  it  might  have  a  will  of  its  own,  and  its  action 
i  might  interfere  with  the  imperial  designs  of  England. 
But  once  let  that  provincial  legislature  be  absorbed  in  the 
great  British  Parliament, — its  members  brought  up  to 
London,  an,d  within  the  charmed  circle  of  the  court,  and  it 
would  be  easy  to  manage  that  body.  Such  were  the  state 
necessities  which  justified  the  measure  of  union,  and  the 
reasons  were  as  good  as  are  generally  brought  forward  to 
excuse  a  great  political  crime. 

But  if  the  danger  of  England  rendered  such  a  measure 
necessary,  what  shall  be  said  of  the  means  employed  to 
effect  it.  It  is  now  admitted  by  all,  that  the  Union  was 
carried  by  the  most  shameless  duplicity  and  corruption. 


308 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


The  Irish  were  flattered  with  the  idea,  that  in  place  of 
being  a  mere  dependency  of  the  British  crown,  they  were 
to  have  a  part  in  the  imperial  legislature.  To  different 
parties  were  made  contradictory  promises.  The  Catholics 
were  entreated  to  join  in  the  measure,  and  solemnly  as¬ 
sured  that,  as  soon  as  it  was  carried,  they  should  receive 
entire  emancipation.  At  the  same  time  to  the  Protestants 
were  held  out  expectations  utterly  incompatible  with  such 
concessions.  Thus  the  nation  was  kept  quiet  while  the 
work  of  treason  went  on  in  its  legislature.  Here  more  im¬ 
mediate  benefits  were  conferred  as  foretastes  of  the  bless¬ 
ings  of  union.  Titles  and  money  Avere  distributed  with  a 
free  hand,  to  all  whose  votes  or  influence  were  necessary  to 
pass  the  measure.  Thus  was  obtained  a  subservient 
majority  in  the  Irish  Parliament  to  vote  their  own  anni¬ 
hilation. 

In  vain  the  Irish  orators  struggled  against  it.  All  the 
eloquence  of  Grattan  and  Plunkett  denounced  the  suicidal 
measure.  Union !  Union !  The  word  hath  a  pleasant 
sound.  But  what  is  Union?  The  absorption  of  one  na¬ 
tion  by  another,  as  of  Poland  by  Russia  ?  That  is  no  fair 
compact,  but  conquest  and  slavery.  But  they  spoke  in 
vain,  for  they  spoke,  not  to  generous  Irish  hearts,  but  to 
hireling  voters,  dazzled  with  titles  and  glittering  gold. 
The  fatal  measure  was  carried,  and  from  that  moment 
Ireland  Avas  but  a  province  of  England — not  a  coequal 
branch  of  a  great  empire — but  a  conquered  province,  to  be 
ruled  on  such  terms  as  victors  give  to  the  vanquished. 

There  is  one  consolation  in  this  act.  A  parliament, 


UNION  CARRIED  BY  BRIBERY. 


309 


capable  of  sucli  unblushing  bribery,  was  no  longer  fit  to  be 
intrusted  with  power.  It  completed  its  sbame  by  voting 
its  own  destruction.  As  Currran  said,  “  The  wages  of 
their  sin  was  death.” 

As  if  this  were  not  shame  enough,  the  members  of  that 
Parliament  afterward  pleaded  the  extreme  corruption  of 
their  body,  as  a  justification  for  selling  its  independence  to 
England.  A  nobleman,  who  had  voted  for  the  Union, 
was  standing  one  day  in  front  of  the  Old  Parliament 
House.  Looking  up,  he  tried  to  be  jocular,  and  said, 
“  Curran,  what  do  they  mean  to  do  with  that  useless  build¬ 
ing?  for  my  part  I  hate  even  the  sight  of  it.”  With  Cur¬ 
ran  the  matter  was  too  sore  for  a  jest.  He  therefore  re¬ 
plied  coldly,  not  concealing  his  contempt,  “I  do  not  won¬ 
der  at  it,  my  lord,  I  never  yet  heard  of  a  murderer  who 
was  not  afraid  of  a  ghost.”* 

“  It  was  on  the  first  day  of  January,  1801,  at  the  hour 
of  noon,  that  the  imperial  united  standard  mounted  on  the 
Bedford  tower  in  Dublin  Castle,  and  the  guns  of  the  royal 
salute  battery  in  Plienix  Park,  announced  to  weeping, 
bleeding,  prostrate  Ireland,  that  her  independence  was  no 
more,  and  that  her  guilt-stained  Parliament  had  done  it¬ 
self  to  death.  It  was  proclaimed  abroad  that  rebellion  was 
crushed,  that  those  designing  men  who  had  led  the  people 
astray  were  all  brought  to  justice  or  to  submission,  and 
now  with  the  opening  century  was  to  arise  a  new  and 
happier  era.” 

This  bright  hope  was  soon  disappointed.  Power  gained 

*  Phillip’s  Recollections,  p.  195. 


810 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


by  treachery  is  seldom  used  for  the  good  of  the  governed, 
No  sooner  was  the  union  consummated,  than  the  promises | 
made  to  the  Catholics  were  shamelessly  violated.  The' 
nation  found  itself  betrayed;  and  since  it  had  let  the  power 
slip  out  of  its  own  hands,  the  prospect  of  Catholic  emanci¬ 
pation,  or  of  a  reform  of  the  abuses  of  government,  was 
more  distant  than  ever.  It  was  not  until  after  a  battle  of 
thirty  years,  that  the  Catholics  reconquered  their  rights. 

The  nation  found  too,  instead  of  the  prosperity  which 
had  been  assured  them  as  the  result  of  union,  that  it  was 
more  likely  to  destroy  the  little  prosperity  which  re¬ 
mained.  Curran  had  predicted  that  the  Union  would  be 
the  emigration  of  every  man  of  consequence  from  Ire¬ 
land.  And  so  it  proved.  Immediately  the  flood  of 
aristocracy  began  to  set  toward  England ;  and  fashion  and 
wealth  followed  it.  The  palaces  of  Sackville-street  were 
deserted.  Noblemen’s  houses  were  converted  into  hotels. 
Their  equipages  no  more  rolled  along  the  avenues  of 
Phoenix  Park.  The  society  of  Dublin  lost  its  gayety  and 
splendor.  The  brilliant  shops  which  denoted  a  prosperous 
capital,  grew  dim  and  old.  The  Parliament  House  was 
turned  into  a  Bank,  a  sign  that  the  voice  of  patriotism  and 
eloquence  was  to  be  heard  no  more  within  those  halls. 
The  rich  estates  of  the  country  began  to  wear  a  neglected 
look,  a  sign  that  the  great  landed  proprietors  were  absent, 
and  draining  off  their  revenues  to  enrich  other  lands,  while 
poor  Ireland  was  left  to  grow  poorer  and  poorer. 

But  the  most  melancholy  effect  was  upon  the  spirits  of 
the  people.  The  Irish  Parliament,  corrupt  as  it  was,  had 
at  least  preserved  the  show  of  independence,  and  kept 


LAMENT  OF  CURRAN. 


311 


alive  a  national  pride.  In  all  their  poverty,  the  Irish  have 
ever  cherished  a  remarkable  attachment  to  their  country. 
Degraded  and  unhappy  as  Ireland  was,  she  was  still  their 
mother,  and  they  loved  her  the  more  for  her  misfortunes. 
But  now  a  blow  was  aimed  at  the  national  existence,  and 
the  effect  upon  an  already  stricken  people  can  be  imagined. 
For  years  the  Irish  orators,  even  when  transferred  to  the 
more  imposing  English  Legislature,  could  not  allude  to  the 
sacrifice  of  their  country’s  independence,  without  bitter¬ 
ness.  “The  Parliament  of  Ireland!”  exclaimed  Grattan 
in  the  English  House  of  Commons,  “of  that  assembly  I 
have  a  parental  recollection.  I  sat  by  her  cradle ;  I  fol¬ 
lowed  her  hearse.*  La  fourteen  years  she  acquired  for 
Ireland  what  you  did  not  acquire  for  England  in  a  century 
— freedom  of  trade,  independency  of  the  legislature,  in¬ 
dependency  of  the  judges,  restoration  of  the  final  judica¬ 
ture,  repeal  of  a  perpetual  mutiny  bill,  habeas  corpus  act 
— a  great  work.” 

But  perhaps  no  man  was  so  crushed  by  this  act  as 
Curran.  It  may  be  truly  said  that  the  Union  killed  him. 
It  broke  his  heart.  He  regarded  it  as  “the  extinction  of 
the  Irish  name.”  He  was  accustomed  to  speak  of  the  Bev- 

*  “  Grattan  had  one  excellence  of  the  very  highest  order,  in  which  he 
may  be  truly  said  to  have  left  all  the  orators  of  modern  times  behind — the 
severe  abstinence  which  rests  satisfied  with  striking  the  decisive  blow  in  a 
word  or  two,  not  weakening  its  effects  by  repetition  and  expansion.  Dante 
himself  never  conjured  up  a  striking,  a  pathetic,  and  an  appropriate  image 
in  fewer  words  than  Mr.  Grattan  employed  to  describe  his  relation  toward 
Irish  independence,  when  alluding  to  its  rise  in  1182,.  and  its  fall  twenty 
years  later  he  said,  “I  sat  by  its  cradle — I  followed  its  hearse.” — Lord 
Brougham’s  Sketches  of  the  Statesmen  of  the  time  of  George  III. 


312 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


olution  of  1782  as  a  resurrection  from  the  dead,  and  of 
tlie  Union  as  a  re-entombment  of  his  country.  Sometimes 
his  spirit  sinks  into  irrepressible  melancholy.  Still  there 
is  dignity  in  his  sorrow.  He  seems  to  be  standing  as  a 
mourner  at  his  country’s  tomb,  celebrating  in  solemn  strains 
her  glory  and  her  fall.  Like  one  of  the  ancient  bards  of 
Ireland,  he  contemplates  with  sad  but  composed  spirit  the 
mighty,  but  inevitable  rain.  “He  represents  the  great  prin¬ 
ciples  of  freedom  as  outraged  and  depressed,  and  deplores 
their  fall ;  but  we  are  perpetually  reminded  that  they  de¬ 
served  a  nobler  destiny,  and  are  made  to  feel  the  same 
sentiment  of  exalted  melancholy  with  which  we  would 
bend  over  the  grave  of  the  illustrious  dead.”  At  other 
times  he  gives  way  to  passionate  bitterness.  He  can  not 
think  without  anger  of  the  miserable  men  by  whom  his 
country  has  been  betrayed.  He  compares  Ireland  to  “a 
bastinadoed  elephant  kneeling  to  receive  his  paltry  rider.” 

One  who  knew  Curran  intimately,  says,  “From  the  time 
that  the  knell  of  his  country’s  independence  was  tolled,  his 
spirit  sunk — as  Cicero,  when  the  Senate  and  the  Forum 
were  no  longer  open  to  his  free  exertions,  drooped  his 
wing,  grew  sad  and  fretful,  even  with  his  friends,  so  was  it 
with  Curran,  ‘a  mountain  of  lead  was  on  his  heart,’  his 
genius  faded,  and  like  the  green  bough,  when  severed  from 
the  parent  stem,  his  verdure  withered,  his  spirit  bloomed 
no  more.” 

A  few  days  before  his  death,  Curran  dined  with  a  friend 
in  London.  After  dinner  he  conversed  for  a  while  with 
his  usual  animation,  but  some  one  alluding  to  Irish  politics, 
he  immediately  hung  down  his  head,  and  burst  into  tears. 


MELANCHOLY  OF  CURRAN.  313 

The  oppression  of  this  great  calamity,  acting  upon  his 
sensitive  nature,  saddened  all  his  latter  days.  Once  un¬ 
bosoming  his  sorrow  to  a  companion  of  his  walks,  he  said, 
“  Depend  upon  it,  my  dear  friend,  it  is  a  serious  misfortune 
in  life  to  have  a  mind  more  sensitive  or  more  cultivated 
than  common- — it  naturally  elevates  its  possessor  into  a 
region  which  he  must  be  doomed  to  find  nearly  unin- 
•  habited.'1''  “  It  was  a  deplorable  thing,”  says  Phillips,  “  to 
see  him  in  the  decline  of  life,  when  visited  by  this  consti¬ 
tutional  melancholy.  I  have  not  unfrequently  accom¬ 
panied  him  in  his  walks  upon  such  occasions,  almost  at  the 
hour  of  midnight.  He  had  gardens  attached  to  the  Priory, 
of  which  he  was  particularly  fond,  and  into  these  gardens, 
when  so  affected,  no  matter  at  what  hour,  he  used  to  ram¬ 
ble.  It  was  then  almost  impossible  to  divert  his  mind 
from  themes  of  sadness.  The  gloom  of  his  own  thoughts 
discolored  every  thing,  and  from  calamity  to  calamity  he 
would  wander  on,  seeing  in  the  future  nothing  for  hope, 
and  in  the  past  nothing  but  disappointment.  Yon  could 
not  recognize  in  him  the  same  creature,  who  but  an  hour 
before  had  ‘  set  the  table  in  a  roar,  ’  his  gibes,  his  merri¬ 
ment,  his  flashes  of  wit,  were  all  extinguished.  lie  had  a 
favorite  little  daughter,  who  was  a  sort  of  musical  prodigy. 
She  had  died  at  the  age  of  twelve,  and  he  had  her  buried 
in  the  midst  of  a  small  grove,  just  adjoining  this  garden. 
A  little  rustic  memorial  was  raised  over  her,  and  often 
have  I  seen  him,  the  tears  ‘chasing  each  other’  down  his 
cheeks,  point  to  his  daughter’s  monument,  and  ‘wish  to 
be  with  her,  and  at  rest.’  ”* 

*  Recollections  of  Curran  and  some  of  his  Cotemporaries,  p.  289. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

Robert  Emmet. — College  Eloquence. — Visits  Paris  after  the  Treaty  of 
Amiens. — Returns  to  Dublin. — Embarks  in  the  Conspiracy. — The  In-,  | 
surrection  takes  place  at  Night. —  Is  instantly  suppressed. — Emmet 

LINGERS  NEAR  DUBLIN. - Is  ARRESTED. —  SPEECH  ON  1IIS  TRIAL. - FARE¬ 

WELL  Letters. — His  Execution. — The  Broken  Heart. 

With  the  consummation  of  tlie  Union,  the  struggle  for 
Irish  independence  may  be  said  to  have  terminated.  The 
only  attempt  against  the  government  since  was  the  insur¬ 
rection  of  Robert  Emmet  in  1803.  This  was  from  the  out¬ 
set  desperate.  It  did  not  extend  beyond  Dublin,  and  was 
instantly  crushed,  and  derives  importance  chiefly  from  the 
talents  and  melancholy  fate  of  its  young  leader. 

During  the  terrible  scenes  of  ’98,  Robert  Emmet  was 
too  young  to  have  any  part  in  public  affairs.  He  was  at 
that  time  a  student  in  the  University  of  Dublin.  Here  he 
was  not  unobservant  of  the  condition  of  his  country,  and 
already  he  began  to  give  proofs  of  a  patriotic  ardor  and 
eloquence  which  afforded  the  brightest  promise  of  future 
fame.  Says  Moore,  who  was  at  this  time  his  College  com¬ 
panion,  “Were  I  to  number  the  men,  among  all  I  have 
ever  known,  who  appeared  to  me  to  combine,  in  the  great¬ 
est  degree,  pure  moral  worth  with  intellectual  power,  I 
should,  among  the  highest  of  the  few,  place  Robert 


COLLEGE  ELOQUENCE. 


315 


Emmet.  Wholly  free  from  the  follies  and  frailties  of 
youth, — though  how  capable  he  was  of  the  most  devoted 
passion  events  afterward  proved — the  pursuit  of  science, 
in  which  he  eminently  distinguished  himself,  seemed,  at 
this  time,  the  only  object  that  at  all  divided  his  thoughts 
with  that  enthusiasm  for  Irish  freedom,  which  in  him  was 
an  hereditary  as  well  as  national  feeling, — himself  being 
the  second  martyr  his  father  had  given  to  the  cause. 

“Simple  in  all  his  habits,  and  with  a  repose  of  look  and 
manner  indicating  but  little  movement  within,  it  was  only 
when  the  spring  was  touched  that  set  his  feelings,  and 
• — through  them — his  intellect  in  motion,  that  he  at  all 
rose  above  the  level  of  ordinary  men.  On  no  occasion 
was  this  more  peculiarly  shown  than  in  those  displays  of 
oratory  with  which,  both  in  the  Debating  and  the  Histori¬ 
cal  Society,  he  so  often  enchained  the  attention  and  sym¬ 
pathy  of  his  young  audience.  Ho  two  individuals  indeed 
could  be  much  more  unlike  to  each  other  than  was  the 
same  youth  to  himself,  before  rising  to  speak  and  after ; — 
the  brow  that  had  appeared  inanimate  and  almost  droop¬ 
ing,  at  once  elevating  itself  in  all  the  consciousness  of 
power,  and  the  whole  countenance  and  figure  of  the 
speaker  assuming  a  change  as  of  one  suddenly  inspired.”* 

During  the  brief  interval  of  peace  between  the  treaty 
of  Amiens  and  the  recommencement  of  war,  travelers 
from  England  swarmed  to  the  Continent.  Among  these 
was  Robert  Emmet,  at  this  time  but  twenty-two  years  old, 
and  of  buoyant  and  enthusiastic  spirits.  After  a  few 
months  in  France  he  returned  to  Ireland,  full  of  the  pro- 

*  Moore’s  Life  of  Fitzgerald,  vol.  i.  p.  217. 


316 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


ject  of  Revolution.  It  is  commonly  said  in  tlie  histories 
of  this  plot,  that  he  had  no  thought  of  it  until  after  his  re¬ 
turn.  But  I  am  assured  by  one  who  met  him  often  in 
Paris,  that  his  friends  suspected  then  that  he  was  medita¬ 
ting  an  attempt  against  the  government.'31'  Thomas  Addis 
Emmet  had  just  been  released  from  Fort  George,  and  gone 
to  the  Continent,  and  on  Robert’s  way  home  through 
Belgium,  the  brothers  met  at  Brussels.  There  is  no  evi¬ 
dence  that  Thomas  was  at  this  time  aware  of  Robert’s 
design.  Had  he  been,  he  would  probably  have  dissuaded 
him  from  it  as  a  rash  attempt.  Besides,  his  tenderness  for 
his  younger  brother  would  have  made  him  hold  him  back 
from  dangers  to  which  he  had  not  hesitated  to  expose  him¬ 
self.  But  once  more  in  Dublin,  the  indignation  against 
oppression  carried  away  the  young  patriot.  The  con¬ 
spiracy  now  took  shape.  A  plan  was  formed  to  attack 
and  carry  the  Castle  of  Dublin,  and  to  organize  immedi¬ 
ately  a  Provisional  Government.  If  the  capital  were  once 
mastered,  it  was  confidently  expected  that  the  insurrection 
in  a  week  would  become  general  throughout  the  island. 
A  proclamation  to  the  Irish  people  was  prepared,  com¬ 
mencing,  “  A  band  of  patriots,  mindful  of  their  oath,  and 
faithful  to  their  engagement  as  United  Irishmen,  have  de¬ 
termined  to  give  freedom  to  their  country,  and  a  period  to 
the  long  career  of  English  oppression.”  In  this  they  de¬ 
clared  their  object  to  be  "to  establish  a  free  and  indepen- 

*  On  his  trial  he  disclaimed  being  the  originator  of  it.  He  said,  “  I  did 
not  create  the  conspiracy.  I  found  it  when  I  arrived  here ;  I  was  solicited 
to  join  it;  I  took  time  to  consider  of  it,  and  I  was  told  expressly  that  it  was 
no  matter  whether  I  did  join  it  or  not,  it  would  go  on.” 


THE  INSURRECTION. 


317 


dent  republic  in  Ireland.”  They  bad  collected  Seven  or 
eight  thousand  pikes,  with  other  arms  and  ammunition. 
The  attack  was  to  take  place  at  night,  the  signal  to  be 
given  by  the  firing  of  a  rocket. 

Accordingly  the  insurrection  broke  out  on  the  night 
of  the  23d  of  July — -just  five  years  and  two  months  from 
that  fatal  night  on  which  the  Kebellion  of  1798  had  burst 
forth.  But  the  organization  was  not  sufficiently  extended 
to  give  it  the  least  chance  of  success.  The  garrison  of 
Dublin  was  instantly  under  arms,  and  the  whole  insur¬ 
rection  was  quelled  before  morning. 

It  seems  impossible  to  justify  so  rash  an  attempt.  It 
can  only  be  said  that  it  was  one  of  those  cases  in  which 
brave  men  take  counsel,  not  from  their  hopes,  but  from 
their  despair. 

For  several  weeks  after,  Emmet  remained  concealed 
near  Dublin.  He  might  have  made  his  escape  from  the 
country.  But  a  new  motive  now  appeared,  which  riveted 
him  to  this  spot.  He  had  formed  the  most  ardent  attachment 
to  the  youngest  daughter  of  Curran.  It  had  been  his  am¬ 
bition,  in  the  desperate  enterprise  he  undertook,  at  once  to 
free  his  country,  and  to  gain  for  himself  a  name  Avhich  she 
might  not  blush  to  own  before  the  world.  How  he  felt 
that  he  had  periled  not  only  his  own  existence,  but  her 
happiness.  He  longed  to  see  her  once  more,  to  explain  to 
her  all,  and  to  obtain,  if  not  her  approbation,  at  least  her 
forgiveness.  This  romantic  wish  cost  him  his  life.  The 
police  were  on  the  search ;  his  place  of  retreat  was  dis¬ 
covered;  he  was  arrested,  and  brought  to  trial  for  his  life. 

Then,  when  all  hope  of  escape  was  gone,  and  he  was 


318 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


compelled  to  face  a  terrible  fate — the  sublimity  of  his 
character  appeared.  The  trial  excited  universal  interest 
in  Dublin.  But  the  government,  perhaps  fearing  a  tu¬ 
mult,  excluded  the  public,  and  filled  the  court-room  with 
soldiers.*  After  an  anxious  session  of  twelve  hours,  the 
trial  closed.  Emmet  remained  silent,  as  a  mere  spectator 
of  the  scene,  until  asked  by  the  court  what  he  had  to 
say  why  the  sentence  of  death  should  not  be  pronounced 
upon  him. 

Then  Emmet  stood  up.  The  eyes  of  the  audience 
were  turned  upon  him.  His  spirit  rose  with  the  excite¬ 
ment  of  the  hour.  His  form  swelled  to  its  full  height,  his 
arm  was  raised,  his  eye  flashed,  and  his  voice  rang  clear 
through  the  hall. 

“My  Lords,”  he  began,  “what  have  I  to  say  why 
sentence  of  death  should  not  be  pronounced  on  me,  accord¬ 
ing  to  law  ?  I  have  nothing  to  say  that  can  alter  your 
predetermination,  nor  that  it  will  become  me  to  say  with 
any  view  to  the  mitigation  of  that  sentence  which  you  are 
here  to  pronounce.  But  I  have  that  to  say,  which  interests 
me  more  than  life.” — He  proceeds  to  vindicate  the  motives 
which  led  him  to  seek  the  separation  of  his  country  from 
England.  In  the  most  burning  words  he  describes  the 
wrongs  of  Ireland.  He  is  repeatedly  interrupted — and  at 
length  closes  his  appeal — not  to  the  judge,  but  to  his 
countrymen  and  to  posterity  : — 

“  My  Lords,  you  are  impatient  for  the  sacrifice — the 

*  “  Nothing  could  exceed  the  public  anxiety  to  hear  the  trial;  however 
the  audience  was  exclusively  military — there  was  not  a  person  in  colored 
clothes  in  the  court  house.” — Phillips’  Recollections,  p.  205. 


SENTENCE  OF  DEATH. 


319 


blood  which  you  seek  is  not  congealed  by  the  artificial 
terrors  which  surround  your  victim !  It  circulates  warmly 
and  unruffled  through  the  channels  which  God  created  for 
noble  purposes. — Be  yet  patient.  I  have  but  a  few  words 
more  to  say — I  am  going  to  my  cold  and  silent  grave ; 
my  lamp  of  life  is  nearly  extinguished;  my  race  is  run; 
the  grave  opens  to  receive  me,  and  I  sink  into  its  bosom  ! 
I  have  but  one  request  to  ask  at  my  departure  from  this 
world — it  is  the  charity  of  its  silence  !  Let  no  man  write 
my  epitaph :  for  as  no  man  who  knows  my  motives  dare  now 
vindicate  them,  let  not  prejudice  or  ignorance  asperse  them. 
Let  them  and  me  repose  in  obscurity  and  peace,  and  my 
tomb  remain  uninscribed,  until  other  times  and  other  men 
can  do  justice  to  my  character.  When  my  country  takes 
her  place  among  the  nations  of  the  earth,  then,  and  not 
till  then,  let  my  epitaph  be  written.— I  have  done.”  He 
was  sentenced  to  be  executed  within  forty-eight  hours. 

The  trial  over,  the  sentence  pronounced,  he  was  re¬ 
conducted  to  prison,  heavily  ironed,  and  left  to  his  re¬ 
flections. 

There  was  no  more  hope.  His  earthly  existence  was 
closed.  He  must  go  down  to  the  dead.  He  must  sleep 
with  the  thousands  who  before  him  had  perished  for  his 
country.  The  tomb  opened  its  iron  portal — and  he  gazed 
in  mournful  silence  !  Sad  hour !  The  enterprise  begun  in 
high  hope  ended  in  bitter,  bitter  tears. 

But  he  must  not  yield  to  grief.  He  had  yet  an  object 
that  weighed  upon  his  heart,  and  he  hastened  to  avail  him¬ 
self  of  the  few  hours  that  remained  to  him  of  existence. 
Even  in  his  last  moments  his  most  painful  reflections  were 


S20 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


not  excited  by  bis  own  fate,  but  by  thoughts  of  one  who 
should  survive  him.  To  her  father  he  wrote  from  prison, 
making  all  the  reparation  in  his  power.  His  last  letter  was 
to  her  brother.  It  ran  thus : — 

“  My  dearest  Richard, 

“  I  find  I  have  but  a  few  hours  to  live,  but  if  it  was  the 
last  moment,  and  that  the  power  of  utterance  was  leaving 
me,  I  would  thank  you  from  the  bottom  of  my  heart  for 
your  generous  expressions  of  affection  and  forgiveness  to 
me.  If  there  was  any  one  in  the  world  in  whose  breast 
my  death  might  be  supposed  not  to  stifle  every  spark  of 
resentment,  it  might  be  you — I  have  deeply  injured  you — 
I  have  injured  the  happiness  of  a  sister  that  you  love,  and 
who  was  formed  to  give  happiness  to  every  one  about  her, 
instead  of  having  her  own  mind  a  prey  to  affliction.  Oh ! 
Richard,  I  have  no  excuse  to  offer,  but  that  I  meant  the 
reverse ;  I  intended  as  much  happiness  for  Sarah  as  the 
most  ardent  love  could  have  given  her.  I  never  did  tell 
you  how  much  I  idolized  her :  it  was  not  with  a  wild  or 
unfounded  passion,  but  it  rvas  an  attachment  increasing 
every  hour,  from  an  admiration  of  the  purity  of  her  mind, 
and  respect  for  her  talents.  I  did  dwell  in  secret  upon  the 
prospect  of  our  union.  I  did  hope  that  success,  while  it 
afforded  the  opportunity  of  our  union,  might  be  the  means 
of  confirming  an  attachment,  which  misfortune  had  called 
forth.  I  did  not  look  to  honors  for  myself — praise  I 
would  have  asked  from  the  bps  of  no  man ;  but  I  would 
have  wished  to  read  in  the  glow  of  Sarah’s  countenance 
that  her  husband  was  respected.  My  love,  Sarah !  it  was 


FAREWELL  LETTERS. 


321 


not  thus  that  I  thought  to  have  requited  jour  affection.  I 
did  hope  to  he  a  prop  round  which  your  affections  might 
have  clung,  and  which  would  never  have  broken ;  but  a 
rude  blast  has  snapped  it,  and  they  have  fallen  over  a  grave. 

“This  is  no  time  for  affliction.  I  have  had  public 
motives  to  sustain  my  mind,  and  I  have  not  suffered  it  to 
sink ;  but  there  have  been  moments  in  my  imprisonment 
when  my  mind  was  so  sunk  by  grief  on  her  account  that 
death  would  have  been  a  refuge. 

“  God  bless  you,  my  dearest  Eichard.  I  am  obliged  to 
leave  off  immediately.  Eobert  Emmet.” 


This  letter  was  written  with  a  firm  hand.  Thus  he 
took  leave  of  his  friends,  with  a  heart  distressed  for  others, 
but  undismayed  for  himself.  Now  he  was  to  take  leave 
of  life. 


“  A  darker  departure  is  near, 

The  death-drum  is  muffled,  and  sable  the  bier.” 


It  was  twelve  o’clock.  Scarcely  had  he  finished  these 
sad  farewells  w'hen  the  officers  entered  his  cell  to  lead  him 
away.  He  was  ready.  The  turnkey  stood  by  the  door, 
and  as  he  saw  his  young  prisoner  pass  out  attended  by  the 
sheriff  and  executioner,  this  man,  whose  trade  makes  the 
heart  hard  as  prison  walls,  wept.  Emmet’s  arms  were 
pinioned,  so  that  he  could  not  extend  his  hand.  But  he 
stopped,  and  leaning  forward,  kissed  his  cheek,  and  the 
man  fell  at  his  feet  insensible,  and  did  not  recover  his  con¬ 
sciousness  until  all  was  over.* 

*  Phillips’  Recollections  of  Curran, 
o* 


322 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


A  little  more  than  three  years  ago  I  stood  on  the  spot 
where  that  young,  faithful  spirit  ceased  to  live.  It  is  in 
Thomas-street,  in  front  of  St.  Catherine's  Church.  To  me 
it  was  sacred  ground.  Many  times  I  walked  around  the 
place,  and  as  I  moved  slowly  down  the  street,  I  turned 
often  to  look  back.  His  spirit  seemed  to  whisper  in  that 
air. 

Even  this  brief  attempt  was  followed  by  a  long  series 
of  executions.  Russell,  the  intimate  friend  of  Tone  and 
Sampson,  had  been  the  confederate  of  Emmet  in  this  pro¬ 
jected  Revolution.  Both  perished.  The  Mexicans  chose 
for  their  sacrifices  the  youths  most  remarkable  for  beauty 
and  loveliness.  So  in  these  terrible  days  of  blood,  the 
fairest  sons  of  Ireland  seemed  to  be  selected  as  offerings  on 
the  altar  of  their  country.  With  the  death  of  Emmet  and 
Russell,  the  last  spark  of  resistance  was  extinguished.  But 
it  was  something  for  Ireland  to  show  that  the  spirit  of 
liberty  still  throbbed  in  the  breasts  of  her  crushed  people. 

“  ’Tis  thus  that  Freedom  now  so  seldom  wakes, 

The  only  throb  she  gives, 

Is  when  some  heart  indignant  breaks, 

To  show  that  still  she  lives.” 

When  that  brave  but  gentle  heart  was  laid  in  the 
grave,  there  were  many  who  wept  for  him.  But  there 
was  one  who  never  recovered  from  the  blow.  When  he 
first  declared  his  love  to  her,  he  received  no  encourage¬ 
ment.  She  answered  that  she  had  no  attachment  to  any 
one,  nor  did  she  seem  likely  to  have  any  that  could  make 
her  willing  to  leave  her  father.  It  was  not  until  danger 


THE  BROKEH  HEART. 


323 


began  to  darken  around  him,  and  fearing  to  cause  her  un¬ 
happiness,  he  went  to  renounce  any  claim  he  might  have 
even  to  her  friendship,  that  he  perceived  by  the  manner  in 
which  she  was  affected  that  his  love  was  returned,  and  that 
it  was  too  late  to  retreat.*  Probably  it  was  not  until  the 
heart,  whose  last  throb  was  for  her,  had  ceased  to  beat,  that 
she  found  how  deeply  her  feelings  were  interested.  Then 
appeared  the  constancy  of  woman’s  affection.  Then  she 
found  that  for  her  the  light  of  existence  was  gone. 
Thenceforth  the  earth  had  no  reality.  She  walked  as  in  a 
sad,  melancholy  dream.  Through  scenes  of  brilliant 
gayety  she  wandered  like  a  shadow.  No  more  charms 
she  found  in  dance  or  music,  nor  in  the  voice  of  man  nor 
woman.  She  grew  wan  and  pale,  the  spirit  becoming 
gradually  disembodied,  till  she  sunk  gently  to  rest. 

It  is  on  this  tale  of  blighting,  consuming  grief,  that  is 
founded  Irving’s  most  touching  story  of  the  Broken  Heart. 
To  one  so  true  Moore  refers  in  the  lines : — 

“  O  make  her  a  grave  -where  the  sunbeams  rest, 

When  they  promise  a  glorious  morrow, 

They’ll  shine  o’er  her  sleep  like  a  smile  from  the  West, 

From  her  own  loved  island  of  sorrow.” 


*  See  his  last  letter  to  her  father.  Life  of  Curran,  p.  304. 


The  Exiles  on  the  Continent. — They  come  to  America. — Fate  of  Tone’s 
Family. — His  Widow  remains  in  Paris. — Her  Son  studies  at  the  Uni¬ 
versity. — He  joins  the  Army. — Serves  in  the  Campaigns  of  1813-14. 
— Wounded  at  the  Battle  of  Leipsic. — Siege  of  Erfurt. — Quits  the 
Army  on  the  Fall  of  Napoleon. — The  Family  remove  to  the  United 
States. 

How  grateful  is  the  air  of  liberty  to  one  who  has  long 
been  a  captive.  The  spirits  of  the  exiles  revived  as  they 
felt  the  free  waves  bounding  beneath  them.  And  yet  their 
departure  from  Scotland  was  not  unattended  with  sadness. 
While  they  were  prisoners,  there  remained  a  hope  of  res¬ 
toration  to  their  country.  But  now  they  were  hopelessly 
banished. 

When  they  touched  the  Continent  they  felt  for  the  first 
time  that  they  were  Exiles.  Liberty  lost  half  its  charms 
as  it  was  to  be  enjoyed  away  from  their  own  country. 
“Perhaps  exile/’  says  Curran,  “is  the  bitterest  ingre¬ 
dient  of  captivity.  The  Jew  felt  it  when  he  wept  by 
the  waters  of  Babylon.  If  adversity  ever  becomes  a 
teacher,  surely  her  school  ought  to  be  found  in  exile.” 
Nothing  can  ^exceed  the  affection  of  the  Irish  for  their 
native  country.  It  is  like  that  which  Burns  so  often  ex¬ 
presses  for  “poor  auld  Scotland.”  Their  hearts  pine,  away 


THE  EXILES  ON  THE  CONTINENT.  325 

from  their  native  hills.  No  splendor  of  foreign  cities  can 
compensate  for  long  separation  from  the  green  island  of 
their  birth.  It  was  from  meeting  an  Irish  exile  at  Ham¬ 
burg  that  Campbell  wrote  his  touching  poem: — 


“  There  came  to  the  beach  a  poor  exile  of  Erin.”* 


I 


The  prisoners  from  Fort  George  landed  in  Holland. 
There  they  separated.  “  The  world  was  all  before  them.” 
Some  went  to  Hamburg;  others  to  France.  McNeven 
went  to  Switzerland,  and  spent  the  summer  and  autumn  in 
traveling  through  its  mountains  on  foot.  He  afterward 
published  a  volume  describing  his  tour.  He  seized  this 
opportunity  also  to  visit  his  relatives  in  Germany.  Emmet 
spent  some  months  in  Holland,  at  Amsterdam  and  Botter- 
dam.  He  passed  the  winter  at  Brussels.  The  next  year 
McNeven  and  Emmet  met  in  Paris.  Here  among  other 
exiled  countrymen,  they  found  Sampson  with  his  family, 
and  the  widow  and  children  of  Tone. 

For  a  time  it  was  the  hope  of  the  Irish  Refugees  in 
Paris,  that  the  French  government,  on  the  rupture  of  the 
treaty  of  Amiens,  would  undertake  another  expedition  to 
Ireland,  in  which  Emmet  and  McNeven  were  eager  to  en¬ 
gage.  In  this  they  were  disappointed.  Napoleon,  am¬ 
bitious  to  raise  himself  to  the  throne,  was  no  longer  the 
young  and  ardent  soldier  of  liberty.  Republican  France 
was  relapsing  into  despotism,  and  the  exiles  felt  that  they 
must  seek  for  freedom  in  another  hemisphere. 


*  “  Anthony  McCann,  ‘  the  Exile  of  Erin,’ was  exiled  previous  to  1798  ; 
he  was  a  handsome  man,  with  a  dejected  cast  of  countenance  ;  he  lived  at 
Altona.” — McNeven. 


826 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


Domestic  grief  also  turned  away  the  heart  of  Emmet 
from  Ireland.  In  the  summer  of  1803  had  taken  place  the 
insurrection  of  his  brother  Eobert,  with  its  tragical  termi¬ 
nation.  His  parents,  broken  -with  their  misfortunes,  had 
sunk  into  the  grave.  His  mother  was  mercifully  taken 
away  two  or  three  days  before  the  execution  of  her  young¬ 
est  son.  His  idolized  sister  too  was  no  more.  In  such 
circumstances  he  could  not  think  of  returning  to  Ireland, 
even  were  he  permitted.  Every  link  which  bound  him  to 
the  land  of  his  birth  was  broken !  It  was  associated  with 
scenes  of  bitterness,  with  prisons  and  scaffolds,  and  family 
desolation,  with  the  destruction  of  kindred,  and  the  ex¬ 
tinction  of  his  name.  “Fortunately,”  says  Madden,  “in 
turning  his  face  toward  the  transatlantic  Antium,  he  could 
say,  1  There  is  a  world  elsewhere.’  ” 

There  was  no  longer  any  barrier  to  the  Irish  patriots 
becoming  citizens  of  this  country.  The  cruel  policy  of 
excluding  foreigners  for  their  political  opinions,  was  repu¬ 
diated  by  Jefferson.  “Shall  we,”  he  exclaimed,  “whose 
forefathers  received  hospitality  from  the  savage  of  the 
wilderness,  deny  it  to  our  brethren  in  distress?  Shall 
there  be  nowhere  an  asylum  on  the  earth  for  persecuted 
humanity  ?” 

Precluded  by  distance,  and  by  her  uniform  policy,  from 
engaging  in  the  struggles  of  liberty  abroad,  our  country 
delights  at  least  to  furnish  a  refuge  for  the  brave  and  the 
unfortunate.  We  in  America  owe  our  best  blood  to  the 
oppressions  of  the  old  world.  The  Puritans  in  New 
England,  the  Quakers  in  Pennsylvania,  the  Huguenots  at 
the  South,  and  the  eminent  Irish  exiles  at  New  York,  are 


YOUNG  TONE  JOINS  THE  ARMY.  327 

the  gifts  of  foreign,  despotism.  And  within  the  last  year 
some  of  the  most  eminent  men  of  Hungary  have  become 
citizens  of  this  New  Free  World. 

To  America  then  the  exiles  turned. — *  *  *  The 
anchor  is  up ;  the  sail  is  set ;  the  wind  blows  fair.  At  last 
the  shores  of  Europe  fade  from  sight. 

The  family  of  Tone  remained  in  France  until  the  resto¬ 
ration  of  the  Bourbons  in  1815. 

After  the  death  of  Tone,  his  widow  fixed  her  residence 
in  Paris  to  attend  to  the  education  of  her  children.  She 
remembered  the  dying  charge  of  her  husband,  “You  are 
now  their  only  parent,”  and  she  devoted  herself  to  them 
as  one  who  was  executing  a  sacred  trust.  The  fate  of  Tone 
excited  universal  interest  in  Paris.  Lucien  Bonaparte  was 
deeply  affected  by  the  story,  and  upon  his  speech  in  the 
Council  of  Five  Hundred,  Mrs.  Tone  was  taken  under  the 
protection  of  the  French  government,  and  her  children 
adopted  by  the  nation.  Two  of  them  died  in  early  years. 
Her  only  surviving  son  Talleyrand  had  proposed  to  adopt 
upon  the  death  of  Tone.  But  his  mother  preferred  to  have 
him  under  her  own  eye.  She  placed  him  in  the  Univer¬ 
sity  of  Paris,  and  removed  to  the  Latin  Quarter,  that  she 
might  be  always  near  him.  Here  he  pursued  his  studies 
eleven  years.  He  then  entered  as  a  cadet  in  the  School 
of  Cavalry  at  St.  Germain,  under  the  special  patronage  of 
the  Emperor.  In  1813  he  entered  the  army  as  Sub-Lieu¬ 
tenant  of  Chasseurs.  He  led  a  detachment  into  Germany 
to  join  the  Grand  Army,  with  which,  after  the  retreat 
from  Russia,  Napoleon  tried  to  beat  back  the  allied  armies 


328 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


from  France.  It  was  the  most  stupendous  campaign  of  the 
Great  Captain.  All  Europe  was  pressing  upon  him.  Our 
young  soldier  was  thrown  into  the  midst  of  this  scene  of 
war,  incessantly  on  the  march  or  in  battle — at  one  time 
away  in  Silesia,  then  riding  in  the  squadrons  that  are 
“pouring  in  hot  haste”  across  the  bridge  of  Dresden,  while 
the  battle  is  raging  on  the  surrounding  heights,  and  next 
fighting  among  the  mountains  of  Bohemia,  with  “the 
enemy’s  bivouacs  at  night  forming  a  complete  circle  of  fire 
all  around  the  horizon.”  We  see  him,  now  fighting  hand 
to  hand  with  Cossacks,  and  now  charging  under  the  furious 
Murat — then,  when  the  bloody  day  is  done,  and  the  last 
volley  has  echoed  among  the  hills,  sitting  around  the  camp¬ 
fires,  listening  by  the  ruddy  light  to  the  wild  and  stirring 
tales  of  war.  Just  before  he  set  off  for  the  army  his 
mother  had  bought  him  a  little  Arabian  horse,  swift  and 
full  of  fire,  yet  so  gentle  that  it  would  eat  bread  out  of  her 
hand.  This  gallant  little  steed  proved  the  best  horse  in 
the  brigade,  and  three  times  saved  his  master’s  life,  at  last 
by  the  sacrifice  of  his  own.  Young  Tone  had  already 
been  wounded  by  a  grape-shot  at  Goldberg,  and  receivec 
three  saber  thrusts  at  Muhlberg.  In  the  latter  action  he  was 
surrounded  by  Cossacks.  “  The  speed  and  ferocity  of  my 
Solyman,”  he  said,  “saved  me;  he  flung  and  kicked  about, 
and  how  I  clung  to  him  I  know  not,  but  he  carried  me  off 
like  a  flash  of  lightning.”  At  Leipsic  he  was  pierced  with 
six  lance  wounds,  and  owed  his  life  to  his  horse  being 
killed  under  him,  and  falling  upon  his  rider.  He  was  left 
upon  the  ground  for  dead. 

When  he  awoke,  the  French  and  Austrian  cavalry  were 


BATTLE  OF  LEIPSIC. 


329 


gone.  The  hurricane  of  battle  had  swept  by.  He  was 
lying  on  the  cold  ground,  in  the  midst  of  the  unburied 
slain.  By  degrees  the  blood  flowed  through  his  stiffened 
limbs,  and  he  was  able  to  crawl  back  to  the  camp. 

He  was  faint  with  loss  of  blood.  “Two  days  he  lay 
in  a  kind  of  stupor,  stretched  on  the  straw  of  the  bivouacs, 
in  the  rear  of  the  army,  in  the  midst  of  the  cannonade 
which  thundered  all  around.  Every  now  and  then  he 
would  raise  himself  to  inquire  of  the  passing  events.”  On 
the  fourth  day  he  was  able  to  stir.  Scarcely  had  the  day 
broken,  when  bombs  burst  over  the  city  and  crashed 
through  the  houses.  Napoleon  had  ordered  a  retreat,  and 
the  allies  were  endeavoring  to  carry  the  city  by  storm. 
The  Imperial  Guard  held  the  rampart,  while  the  rest  of  the 
army  defiled  out  of  the  gates.  The  young  wounded  officer 
rushed  forth  into  the  street,  and,  carried  forward  in  the 
current,  crossed  the  bridge  over  the  Elster  a  little  before  it 
was  blown  up. 

The  seat  of  war  now  approached  the  frontiers  of 
France.  Lieut.  Tone  was  one  of  the  garrison  left  to  hold 
the  strong  fortress  of  Erfurt,  which  was  bravely  defended 
against  the  allies  for  seven  months,  and  surrendered  only 
when  Napoleon  had  abdicated,  and  Louis  XVIII.  was  on 
the  throne  of  France.  Then  Tone  was  sent  to  Paris  to 
signify  its  submission.  The  garrison  felt  not  a  little  pride 
in  being  the  last  that  yielded.  Tone  had  risen  to  the 
rank  of  captain,  and  received  the  Cross  of  the  Legion  of 
Honor. 

He  remained  in  the  army,  and  on  the  return  of  Napo¬ 
leon  from  Elba,  again  took  the  field  in  support  of  his  old 


330 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


commander.  His  military  career  was  closed  by  tlie  battle 
of  Waterloo. 

In  Tone’s  last  letter  to  bis  wife  there  was  a  postscript : 
— “  I  think  you  have  a  friend  in  Wilson  who  will  not 
desert  you.”  This  was  a  Scotch  gentleman  of  the  purest 
and  noblest  character.  Since  the  death  of  Tone  he  had 
proved  a  friend  indeed.  He  had  purchased  a  large  sum  in 
the  French  funds,  and  left  it  in  the  hands  of  a  banker  in 
Paris  for  her  to  draw  upon  whenever  she  had  need.  And 
now  that  the  fall  of  JSTapoleon  had  deprived  her  of  her  pro- 
tector,  he  came  over  to  France,  and  offered  her  his  hand 
and  fortune.  The  case  was  a  difficult  one.  He  was  her 
best  friend  on  earth.  But,  like  the  intended  bride  of 
Eobert  Emmet,  she  had  once  loved  another,  and 

“  Her  heart  in  the  grave  of  her  hero  was  lying.” 

But  he  had  her  esteem,  and  now  sought  her  hand  that  he 
might  have  a  right  to  be  her  companion  and  protector. 
She  yielded,  and  they  were  privately  married  in  the 
chapel  of  the  British  Embassy.  They  left  shortly  after 
for  America,  and  settled  in  Washington. 


CHAPTER  XXX. 


Career  of  Emmet  in  America. — Admitted  to  the  Bar. — Immediate  Suc¬ 
cess. — Character  of  his  Eloquence. — Appears  before  the  Supreme 
court  at  Washington. — Described  by  Judge  Story. — His  home. — His 
Death. 

When  Emmet  landed  at  New  York,  lie  was  about 
forty  years  of  age.  He  bad  lost  sis  years  of  the  prime  of 
manhood  in  imprisonments  and  in  exile.  His  fortune  was 
reduced,  and  he  had  a  large  family  to  support.  At  first  he 
was  in  doubt  whether  to  commence  the  practice  of  law  or 
medicine.  He  had  long  been  broken  off  from  his  legal 
studies,  and  he  was  equally  qualified  to  enter  either  pro¬ 
fession.  When  he  had  decided  upon  the  bar,  he  proposed 
to  remove  to  Ohio,  thinking  that  a  new  country  would  be 
better  for  his  children. 

As  it  happened,  a  man  of  Irish  descent  was  then  gov¬ 
ernor  of  the  State  of  New  York.  It  was  the  venerable 
George  Clinton,  who  the  next  year  became  vice-president 
of  the  United  States.  De  Witt  Clinton  had  just  resigned 
a  seat  in  the  Senate,  and  was  then  mayor  of  the  city. 
Both  these  gentlemen  sent  for  Mr.  Emmet  and  told  him  to 
remain  in  New  York.  His  great  talents  must  command 
patronage.  General  Hamilton,  who  had  been  at  the  head 
of  the  bar,  had  been  killed  in  a  duel  by  Aaron  Burr,  and 


332 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


there  was  a  great  opening  which  Mr.  Emmet  could  occupy. 
As  to  the  western  country,  it  was  at  that  time  a  wilder¬ 
ness,  and  no  place  for  a  great  lawyer.  Mr.  Emmet  replied 
that  he  would  gladly  remain  in  New  York,  but  that  he 
could  not  practice  without  three  years’  study.  George  and 
De  Witt  Clinton  therefore  made  application  to  the  judges 
of  the  Supreme  Court  to  dispense  with  the  usual  require¬ 
ment,  and  obtained  their  assent — a  departure  from  the 
ordinary  rules  of  the  court,  which  was  only  justified  by 
the  knowledge  of  his  great  legal  attainments,  and  of  his 
distinction  at  the  bar  of  another  country. 

Mr.  Emmet  now  began  his  brilliant  professional  career. 
The  impression  which  he  produced  was  immediate  and  de¬ 
cided.  His  first  cause  was  a  defense  of  several  fugitive 
slaves.  He  entered  into  it  with  the  ardor  of  his  Irish  na¬ 
ture,  and  pleaded  for  the  helpless  with  great  eloquence 
and  pathos.  The  audience  were  electrified.  His  friends 
said  that  his  fortune  was  made,  and  so  it  proved. 

From  that  time  he  rose  rapidly.  Business  flowed  in 
upon  him,  and  he  soon  found  himself  in  the  possession  of 
a  lucrative  practice  and  of  extensive  fame,  and  was  em¬ 
ployed  in  the  most  important  causes  in  the  country. 

Mr.  Emmet  had  every  qualification  for  a  great  lawyer. 
His  mind  was  quick.  He  saw  the  points  of  a  case  at  a 
glance.  And  once  entered  upon  it,  his  temperament  led 
him  to  investigate  it  to  the  bottom.  The  same  ardor  and 
perseverance,  which  he  had  shown  in  studying  mathemat¬ 
ics,  when  a  prisoner  at  Fort  George,  he  now  showed  in 
investigating  the  facts  of  a  case.  He  was  a  hard  student 


CHARACTER  OF  HIS  ELOQUENCE. 


333 


to  the  close  of  life.  Often,  after  returning  from  a  day  of 
exhausting  labor  in  the  courts,  he  would  retire  to  his  room, 
and  continue  the  investigation  of  a  cause  until  after  mid¬ 
night.  Hence  he  came  into  court  thoroughly  prepared, 
and  was  not  to  be  taken  off  his  guard.  "When  necessary, 
he  could  make  nice  distinctions  with  the  subtilty  of  a 
metaphysician.  Yet  the  general  character  of  his  mind  was 
comprehensive.  He  could  enlarge  or  contract  the  lens  of 
his  mind  so  as  to  make  it  either  a  microscope  or  a  teles¬ 
cope. 

He  was  perfectly  familiar  with  the  detail  of  statutes, 
yet  he  preferred  to  rest  his  cause  on  the  broad  principles 
of  the  common  law.  Clear  in  the  statement  of  a  case, 
lucid  in  the  arrangement  of  facts,  it  was  in  bringing  for¬ 
ward  the  principles  of  justice  which  lie  at  the  foundation 
of  all  law,  that  his  power  chiefly  lay.  His  feelings  became 
excited,  and  his  countenance  betrayed  his  emotions.  At 
such  moments  he  used  much  action,  often  gesturing  with 
great  violence.  It  was  then,  in  giving  utterance  to  his  in¬ 
dignation  against  wrong,  and  in  his  plea  for  right  between 
man  and  man,  that  he  awed  the  assembly  and  made  their 
blood  run  cold. 

In  common  with  the  Irish  orators  he  possessed  a  rich 
and  exuberant  imagination.  But  this  faculty  was  per¬ 
fectly  under  control.  He  knew  when  to  use  it — to  enliven 
the  dull  details  of  law,  or  to  revive  the  attention  of  the 
jury.  But  it  was  never  suffered  to  overload  or  obscure 
the  subject.  As  was  said  of  Erskine,  that  “  while  he 
dazzled,  charmed  and  astonished  all  who  heard  him  in 
Westminster  Hall,  the  hard  head  and  watchful  skill  of  the 


334 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


lawyer  were  always  perceptible,”  so  Emmet,  in  the  wide 
sweep  of  liis  imagination,  and  tbe  rnsb  of  bis  emotions, 
never  suffered  tbe  point  of  tbe  verdict  to  escape  bim. 

Tbe  speeches  of  Mr.  Emmet  abounded  in  illustrations, 
wbicb  were  generally  very  bappy.  His  life  bad  been 
spent  in  tbe  old  world.  He  was  familiar  witb  its  bistory. 
He  had  acted  history.  References  to  tbe  actors  of  bis  own 
or  other  times,  were  often  introduced  pertinently  and  witb 
very  striking  effect.  Especially  in  allusions  to  bis  country 
bis  voice  swelled  witb  indignation  at  her  wrongs,  and  sub¬ 
sided  into  pathos,  as  be  pictured  her  wretchedness,  wbicb 
moved  all  who  beard  bim. 

The  courage  of  Emmet,  wbicb  bad  borne  bim  through 
a  stormy  period  of  Revolution,  was  conspicuous  at  tbe  bar. 
He  bad  an  undaunted  spirit.  He  was  never  cowed  by  an 
overbearing  opponent.  He  indulged  in  no  personalities, 
manifesting  tbe  utmost  courtesy  in  debate.  But  if 
attacked,  as  was  sometimes  tbe  case,  bis  retort  was  always 
ready.  Perhaps  bis  most  extraordinary  power  was  that 
of  instant  and  overwhelming  reply.  Attack  aroused  bim. 
On  such  occasions  bis  eye  flashed  fire,  and  pointing  witb 
bis  quivering  finger  to  bis  assailant,  be  poured  forth  a 
vehemence  of  invective  wbicb  taught  bis  presumptuous 
adversary  not  to  repeat  tbe  offense.  Mr.  Duer  mentions 
as  tbe  great  peculiarity  of  bis  eloquence,  “that  imperiatorial 
tone  wbicb  bis  superior  genius  enabled  bim  without  affec¬ 
tation  to  assume.” 

In  other  ways,  tbe  character  of  Emmet  was  apparent 
in  bis  speeches.  He  bad  tbe  keenest  sensibility  for  others 
who  bad  suffered  injustice.  Hence  be  was  led  to  take  side 


BEFORE  THE  SUPREME  COURT. 


335 


ardently  with  one  who  was  wronged.  This  warmth  of 
feeling  sometimes  betrayed  him  into  error,  as  he  was  easily 
persuaded  into  a  conviction  of  the  justice  of  his  cause. 

The  following  impressions  of  Mr.  Emmet  are  from  the 
highest  authority — that  of  the  late  Judge  Story : — 

“  It  was  in  the  winter  of  1815  that  I  became  acquainted 
with  Mr.  Emmet.  He  was  then  for  the  first  time  in  attend¬ 
ance  upon  the  Supreme  Court  at  AYashington,  being  en¬ 
gaged  in  some  important  prize  causes  then  pending  in  the 
court.  Although  at  that  period  he  could  have  been  little 
turned  of  fifty  years  of  age,  the  deep  lines  of  care  were 
marked  upon  his  face,  the  sad  remembrances,  as  I  should 
conjecture,  of  past  sufferings,  and  of  those  anxieties  which 
wear  themselves  into  the  heart.  There  was  an  air  of  sub¬ 
dued  thoughtfulness  about  him,  that  read  to  me  the  lessons 
of  other  interests  than  those  which  belonged  to  mere  pro¬ 
fessional  life.  He  was  cheerful,  but  rarely  if  ever  gay ; 
frank  and  courteous,  but  he  soon  relapsed  into  gravity 
when  not  excited  by  the  conversation  of  others. 

“  Such,  I  remember,  were  my  early  impressions ;  and  his 
high  professional  character,  as  well  as  some  passages  in  his 
life,  gave  me  a  strong  interest  in  all  that  concerned  him. 
There  were  too  some  accidental  circumstances  connected 
with  his  arguments  on  that  occasion,  which  left  a  vivid 
recollection  upon  all  who  had  the  pleasure  of  hearing  him. 
It  was  at  this  time  that  Mr.  Pinckney,  of  Baltimore,  one 
of  the  proudest  names  in  the  annals  of  the  American  bar, 
was  in  the  meridian  of  his  glory. — Air.  Emmet  was  a  new 
and  untried  opponent,  and  brought  with  him  the  ample 
honors  won  at  one  of  the  most  distinguished  bars  in  the 


336 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


Union.  In  the  only  causes  in  which  Mr.  Emmet  was  en¬ 
gaged,  Mr.  Pinckney  was  retained  on  the  other  side  ;  and 
each  of  these  causes  was  full  of  important  matter,  hearing 
upon  the  public  policy  and  prize  law  of  the  country. 
Curiosity  was  awakened ;  their  mutual  friends  waited  for 
the  struggle  with  impatient  eagerness;  and  a  generous 
rivalry,  roused  by  the  public  expectations,  imparted  itself 
to  their  own  bosoms.  A  large  and  truly  intelligent  audi¬ 
ence  was  present  at  the  argument  of  the  first  cause.  It 
was  not  one  which  gave  much  scope  to  Mr.  Emmet’s  pecu¬ 
liar  powers.  The  topic  was  one  with  which  he  was  not 
very  familiar.  He  was  new  to  the  scene,  and  somewhat 
embarrassed  by  its  novelty.  His  argument  was  clear  and 
forcible,  but  he  was  conscious  that  it  was  not  one  of  his 
happiest  efforts.  On  the  other  hand,  his  rival  was  per¬ 
fectly  familiar  with  the  whole  range  of  prize  law  ;  he  was 
at  home,  both  in  the  topic  and  in  the  scene.  He  won  an 
easy  victory,  and  pressed  his  advantages  with  vast  dex¬ 
terity,  and  as  Mr.  Emmet  thought,  with  somewhat  of  the 
display  of  triumph.  The  case  of  the  Uereide,  so  well 
known  in  our  prize  history,  was  soon  after  called  on  for 
trial.  In  this  second  effort  Mr.  Emmet  was  far  more  suc¬ 
cessful.  His  speech  was  greatly  admired  for  its  force  and 
fervor,  its  variety  of  research,  and  its  touching  eloquence. 
It  placed  him  at  once,  by  universal  consent,  in  the  first 
rank  of  American  advocates.  I  do  not  mean  to  intimate 
that  it  placed  him  before  Mr.  Pinckney,  who  was  again  his 
noble  rival  for  victory.  But  it  settled  forever,  his  claims 
to  very  high  distinction  in  the  profession.  In  the  exor¬ 
dium  of  his  speech,  he  took  occasion  to  mention  the  em- 


DESCRIBED  BY  JUDGE  STORY. 


337 


r 


barrassment  of  bis  own  situation,  tlie  novelty  of  tbe  forum, 
and  tbe  public  expectations  wbicb  accompanied  tbe  cause. 
He  spoke  with  generous  praise  of  bis  opponent,  whom 
fame  and  fortune  bad  followed  both  in  Europe  and 
America.  And  then,  in  tbe  most  delicate  and  affecting 
manner,  be  alluded  to  tbe  events  of  bis  own  life,  in  wbicb 
misfortune  and  sorrow  bad  left  many  deep  traces  of  tbeir 
ravages.  ‘My  ambition,’  said  be,  ‘was  extinguished  in 
my  youtb ;  and  I  am  admonished  by  tbe  premature  ad¬ 
vances  of  age,  not  now  to  attempt  tbe  dangerous  paths  of 
fame.’  At  tbe  moment  when  be  spoke,  tbe  recollections  of 
bis  sufferings  melted  tbe  hearts  of  tbe  audience,  and  many 
of  them  were  dissolved  in  tears.  From  that  period  I  was 
accustomed  to  bear  Mr.  Emmet  at  tbe  bar  of  tbe  Supreme 
Court  in  almost  every  variety  of  causes ;  and  my  respect 
for  bis  talents  constantly  increased  until  tbe  close  of  bis 
life.  I  take  pleasure  in  adding  that  his  affability,  bis 
modest  and  unassuming  manner,  bis  warm  feelings  and  bis 
private  virtues,  gave  a  charm  to  bis  character  wbicb  made 
it  at  once  my  study  and  delight. 

“  That  be  bad  great  qualities  as  an  orator  can  not  be 
doubted  by  any  one  who  lias  beard  him.*  Ilis  mind 
possessed  a  good  deal  of  tbe  fervor  wbicb  characterizes  bis 

*  This  impression  of  greatness  lie  produced  on  all  who  approached  him. 
Says  Mr.  Duer,  “  Thomas  Addis  Emmet,  in  head  and  in  heart,  and  in  no 
vulgar  sense  of  the  term,  was  a  great  man,  and  as  an  orator,  with  the  single 
exception  of  Burke,  unsurpassed  by  any  that  his  country  has  produced.”  It 
was  this  union  of  head  and  heart  which  made  him  great.  After  all,  the 
truest  greatness  is  of  the  soul — the  divine  beauty  of  virtue — the  love  of 
truth  and  justice.  A  strong  intellect  and  noble  passions  must  combine  in 
every  great  human  character, 


P 


S38 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


countrymen.  It  was  quick,  vigorous,  searching  and  buoy¬ 
ant.  He  kindled  as  be  spoke.  There  was  a  spontaneous 
combustion,  as  it  were,  not  sparkling,  but  clear  and  glow¬ 
ing.  His  rhetoric  was  never  florid;  and  his  diction, 
though  select  and  pure,  seemed  the  common  dress  of  his 
thoughts  as  they  arose,  rather  than  any  studied  effort  at 
ornament.  Without  being  deficient  in  imagination,  he 
seldom  drew  upon  it  for  resources  to  aid  the  effect  of  his 
arguments,  or  to  illustrate  his  thoughts.  His  object  seemed 
to  be,  not  to  excite  wonder  or  surprise,  to  captivate  by 
bright  pictures  and  varied  images,  and  graceful  groups 
and  startling  apparitions;  but  by  earnest  and  close  rea¬ 
soning  to  convince  the  judgment,  or  to  overwhelm  the 
heart  by  awakening  its  most  profound  emotions.  His  own 
feelings  were  warm  and  easily  touched.  His  sensibility 
was  keen,  and  refined  itself  almost  into  a  melting  tender¬ 
ness.  His  knowledge  of  the  human  heart  was  various  and 
exact.  He  was  easily  captivated  by  the  belief  that  his 
own  cause  was  just.  Hence  his  eloquence  was  most  strik¬ 
ing  for  its  persuasiveness.  He  said  what  he  felt,  and  he  felt 
what  he  said.  His  command  over  the  passions  of  others 
was  instantaneous  and  sympathetic.  The  tones  of  his 
voice,  when  he  touched  on  topics  calling  for  deep  feelings, 
were  themselves  instinct  with  meaning.  They  were  utter¬ 
ances  of  the  soul  as  well  as  of  the  lips.” 

Thus  constantly  engaged  in  the  highest  court  of  the 
nation,  the  fame  of  Emmet  extended  to  all  parts  of  the 
country.  An  eminent  lawyer,  writing  from  the  west,  said, 
“  Thomas  Addis  Emmet  is  the  great  luminary  whose  light 


EMMET  IN  HIS  HOME. 


339 


even  crosses  the  western  mountains.  His  name  rings  down 
the  valley  of  the  Mississippi,  and  we  hail  his  efforts  with  a 
kind  of  local  pride.”  It  was  happy  for  his  fame  that  the 
last  half  of  his  life  was  given  to  the  new  world.  lie  has 
thus  connected  his  name  with  both  hemispheres. 

In  private  life  Emmet  was  the  most  simple  of  men.  He 
was  modest  and  unassuming,  a  trait  particularly  beautiful 
in  one  of  his  eminent  talents.  Plain  in  his  dress  and  in 
his  style  of  living,  he  was  a  model  of  republican  simplicity. 
He  was  strictly  temperate  in  his  habits,  by  which  he  pre¬ 
served  uninterrupted  health,  notwithstanding  the  severe 
and  constant  application  which  his  profession  required. 
In  his  dealings  he  was  scrupulously  honest  and  upright, 
while  to  his  friends  he  was  generous  and  obliging.  The 
kindness  of  his  heart  was  particularly  manifest  in  his  treat¬ 
ment  of  the  younger  members  of  the  bar.  He  encouraged 
their  efforts,  and  pointed  out  their  faults,  with  the  kindness 
of  a  father,  sometimes  adding  playfully,  “  Let  me  see  you 
do  that  again.” 

In  ordinary  conversation  he  was  not  particularly  bril¬ 
liant.  His  mind  seemed  then  to  be  in  repose.  Though  he 
had  by  nature  the  cheerful  spirit  of  his  countrymen,  he 
was  rarely  gay.  The  sad  events  of  his  early  life  had  given 
to  his  countenance,  when  not  animated,  an  expression  of 
thoughtful  melancholy. 

Exile  did  not  wean  his  attachment  from  his  native  land. 
He  continued  to  watch  its  fortunes  with  interest.  Yet  he 
had  no  wish  to  revisit  Ireland.  There  were  too  many  sad 
memories  connected  with  that  soil.  In  a  letter  to  a  friend 


340 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


in  Dublin,  be  said,  “I  am  too  proud,  when  vanquished,  to 
assist  by  my  presence  in  gracing  the  triumph  of  the  victor, 
and  with  what  feelings  should  I  tread  on  Irish  ground?  as 
if  I  were  walking  over  graves,  and  those  the  graves  of  my 
nearest  relations  and  dearest  friends.  There  is  not  now  in 
Ireland  an  individual  that  bears  the  name  of  Emmet.” 

He  went  little  into  society.  His  happiness  was  at  home. 
His  wife  was  the  worthy  partner  of  such  a  man.  She  had 
shared  his  imprisonments.  And  she  had  his  devoted  at¬ 
tachment  in  his  prosperous  days.  He  was  fond  of  his 
children  and  of  reading.  In  the  midst  of  his  family  and 
of  his  books  he  had  all  which  life  could  afford  to  make 
him  happy.  He  lived  to  see  his  sons  attain  to  manhood, 
and  occupying  high  positions  in  society. 

Emmet  died  in  1827.  He  had  been  engaged  in  an  im¬ 
portant  cause  for  the  Sailor’s  Snug  Harbor.  He  was  em¬ 
ployed  to  defend  a  humane  bequest  to  superannuated 
seamen.  It  seemed  beautifully  suited  to  the  whole  tenor 
of  his  life  that,  as  his  first  effort  at  the  American  bar  was 
in  defense  of  a  slave,  his  last  was  in  behalf  of  a  charitable 
institution.  He  began  his  career  in  the  service  of  liberty, 
and  ended  it  in  the  service  of  charity.  He  was  trying  this 
cause  in  the  United  States  Circuit  Court  when  he  was 
struck  with  death.  The  pen  with  which  he  was  writing 
dropped  from  his  hand.  He  fell  back  in  an  apoplectic 
fit.  Instantly  the  court  rose.  The  bar  gathered  round  to 
raise  up  the  great  advocate,  fallen  on  the  field  of  his  fame. 
The  judges  came  down  from  the  bench,  watching  with 
painful  interest  the  signs  of  death  stealing  over  that 
noble  countenance.  The  audience  stood  in  anxious  sus- 


HIS  DEATH. 


341 


pense,  with  their  eyes  riveted  on  the  form  of  the  dying 
orator.  He  was  carried  to  his  home,  and  expired  that 
night. 

The  news  of  his  death  fell  upon  the  city  as  a  public 
calamity.  When  he  was  borne  to  his  grave,  the  mayor 
and  council  of  the  city,  the  judges  of  all  the  courts,  the 
members  of  the  bar,  and  an  immense  concourse  of  citi¬ 
zens,  in  mournful  procession,  followed  the  bier. 

A  marble  obelisk  was  erected  to  his  memory  by  public 
subscription,  bearing  inscriptions  in  three  languages,  one 
in  English  by  Gulian  C.  Yerplanck,  Esq.,  one  in  Latin  by 
Mr.  John  Duer,  and  a  third  in  Irish  by  Bishop  England  of 
Charleston,  South  Carolina.  It  stands  in  the  cemetery  of 
St.  Paul’s  Church,  fronting  Broadway,  a  fitting  monument 
to  the  ever  passing  crowd  of  the  virtues  of  Thomas  Addis 
Emmet. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


Dr.  McNeven  settles  in  New  York. — Chosen  professor  in  the  College 
of  Physicians  and  Surgeons. — Marries  an  American  Ladyl — Efforts 
for  Irish  Emigrants. — Sampson  resumes  the  Practice  of  Law. — Friend¬ 
ship  of  the  Exiles. — Their  Families  connected  by  Marriage. — Happy 
Day's.— Death  of  Sampson  and  McNeven. — They  are  buried  side  by 
side. 

McNeven  followed  Emmet  to  America  in  1805.  He 
landed  in  New  York  on  the  4th  of  July.  He  often  spoke 
of  his  feelings,  as  he  stepped  on  the  Battery,  and  found 
himself  in  the  midst  of  a  crowd  of  military  and  citizens, 
celebrating  their  deliverance  from  that  power  which  still 
oppressed  his  own  land.  “  His  heart  warmed  to  his  new 
brethren,”  but  he  knew  no  one,  and  as  he  walked  up 
Broadway  to  the  City  Hotel,  he  felt  that  he  was  a  stranger 
in  a  strange  land.  By  a  singular  coincidence  Sampson 
landed  in  New  York  the  same  day  of  the  following  year. 

Neither  McNeven  nor  Sampson  had  reason  long  to  feel 
that  they  were  strangers.  McNeven  resumed  the  practice 
of  medicine  in  which  he  soon  became  honorably  distin¬ 
guished,  and  was  appointed  to  a  professorship  in  the 
College  of  Physicians  and  Surgeons. 

In  America  he  found  a  home  and  a  wife.  In  1810  he 
married  a  lady  of  one  of  the  oldest  families  of  New  York. 


THE  EXILES  IX  NEW  TORE. 


343 


He  had  now  every  thing  to  make  him  feel  that  he  was  an 
American  citizen.  He  accordingly  entered  with  interest 
into  the  political  questions  of  the  day,  and  took  pride  in 
the  prosperity  and  power  of  his  adopted  country. 

Still  he  never  lost  his  affection  for  Ireland.  He  followed 
with  interest  its  political  agitations,  and  sympathized 
warmly  in  the  exertions  of  O’Connell.  He  lived  to  see 
Catholic  Emancipation,  which  had  been  the  great  measure 
of  his  early  life,  triumph  gloriously  after  a  struggle  of 
forty  years. 

McNeven  took  much  to  heart  the  unfriended  condition 
of  Irish  emigrants,  arriving  in  great  numbers  in  America 
without  friends  and  without  a  guide.  In  1816  he  opened 
a  free  office  for  procuring  them  employment,  and  afterward 
a  free  registry  office  for  servants. 

Sampson  resumed  the  profession  of  law,  and  rapidly 
rose  to  eminence.  He  was  the  legal  adviser  of  Joseph 
Bonaparte  and  of  the  most  distinguished  French  refugees 
who  came  to  America  on  the  fall  of  Napoleon.  Some  of 
these  had  befriended  him  when  in  exile,  and  it  was  now 
his  power  and  his  happiness  to  aid  and  cheer  them  in  their 
banishment. 

He  had  come  to  America  alone,  but  in  1810  he  was 
joined  by  his  wife  and  family,  from  whom  he  was  never 
again  separated.  The  stormy  scenes  through  which  he 
had  passed  in  his  own  country,  set  in  brighter  relief  the 
repose  which  he  found  in  ours.  He  was  peculiarly  fitted 
for  domestic  pleasures.  He  had  that  union  of  gentleness 
with  intrepidity  which  marks  the  heroic  character.  His 


344 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


warm  Irish  heart,  his  placid  temper,  and  cheerful  spirits, 
enlivened  every  circle  into  which  he  entered.  In  the  soci¬ 
ety  of  New  York  he  frequently  met  Englishmen,  who  were 
perplexed  to  find  that  the  atrocious  rebels  of  whom  they 
had  heard,  were  humane  and  kind-hearted  men,  and  of  the 
most  gentle  and  courteous  manners. 

The  Irish  exiles  among  themselves  always  maintained 
intimate  and  affectionate  relations.  Their  families  were 
afterward  connected  by  marriage.  Among  the  French 
emigrants  who  were  befriended  by  Sampson,  was  the  only 
son  of  Wolfe  Tone.  He  had  thrown  up  his  commission  in 
the  French  army  on  the  fall  of  Napoleon,  and  now  sought 
a  home  in  America.  Mr.  Sampson  received  him  into  his 
office  as  a  student  of  law.  After  a  few  years,  when  he  had 
entered  on  his  profession,  he  was  married  to  the  only 
daughter  of  Sampson.  The  eldest  son  of  Emmet  had  al¬ 
ready  been  married  to  the  step-daughter  of  McNeven. 

In  Madden’s  Lives  of  the  United  Irishmen  there  is  a 
sketch  of  McNeven  by  his  daughter,  which  contains  a 
pleasing  reference  to  the  intimacy  which  existed  between 
the  Irish  families  then  settled  in  New  York  : — 

“  At  the  period  of  Mr.  Emmet’s  death  I  was  too  young 
to  have  many  personal  recollections  of  him ;  but  of  Mr. 
Sampson  I  have  the  most  vivid  and  affectionate  remem¬ 
brance.  His  family  and  ours  have  ever  been  united  in  the 
warmest  friendship,  and  when  I  look  back,  the  pleasantest 
of  our  past  recollections  are  connected  with  him.  He 
possessed,  more  than  any  one  I  ever  knew,  the  power  of 
creating  enjoyment;  it  was  impossible  that  any  company 
could  be  dull  of  which  he  was  a  part.  His  brilliant  wit 


HAPPIER  DAYS. 


345 


and  pleasant  fancy  enlivened  and  adorned  tlie  conversa¬ 
tion,  whether  grave  or  gay.  I  wish  it  were  in  my  power  to 
describe,  as  I  remember  it,  the  delightful  social  intercourse 
between  our  families. 

“  My  grandfather,  Mr.  Riker,  a  descendant  of  the  early 
Dutch  settlers,  resided  on  his  farm,  on  the  shore  of  a  beau¬ 
tiful  bay  about  eight  miles  from  the  city.  He  had  served 
his  country  through  her  revolutionary  struggle,  and  after¬ 
ward  as  a  representative  in  Congress  ;  and  had  a  mind  and 
heart  to  appreciate  and  understand  men  like  my  father  and 
Mr.  Sampson,  whose  society  he  greatly  enjoyed.  Mr. 
Sampson,  to  the  great  qualities  of  his  mind,  added  a  refine¬ 
ment,  I  may  say  a  poetry  of  feeling,  which  enabled  him  to 
relish  keenly  the  beauties  of  nature,  and  to  tinge  even  the 
commonplace  realities  of  life  with  a  bright  and  pleasing 
coloring.  He  had  always  great  delight  in  boating,  and 
during  his  years  of  health  and  vigor,  was  never  without  a 
boat  large  enough  to  hold  himself,  his  friends,  and  their 
families,  and  it  was  one  of  his  greatest  pleasures  to  collect 
•them  together,  and  make  excursions  up  the  river,  to  visit 
the  Rikers,  his  friends  at  Bowery  Bay.  The  sail  from 
New  York  up  the  East  River  is  one  of  much  variety  and 
beauty,  with  just  sufficient  peril  in  passing  through  the 
narrow  passage  called  Hellgate,  to  give  it  a  romantic  in¬ 
terest  ;  but  Mr.  Sampson  was  a  master  of  boat-craft,  and 
used  safely  to  conduct  his  little  vessel  through  all  dangers, 
until  it  entered  the  smooth  waters  of  the  bay,  when  he 
would  give  notice  of  his  approach,  by  playing  an  air  on  his 
flute,  always  his  companion,  and  he  was  greeted  by  a 
hearty  welcome  before  his  boat  could  reach  the  shore. 


346 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


Sometimes  tlie  sound  of  Inis  flute  might  be  beard  at  the 
quiet  farm-house,  of  a  moonlight  night,  as  late  as  eleven 
or  twelve  o’clock.  The  doors  were  immediately  thrown 
open  to  receive  the  party,  and  after  passing  an  hour  or  two 
in  cheerful  conversation,  he  and  his  friends  would  take  the 
turn  of  the  tide  and  sail  gayly  back  to  the  city.  I  have 
often,  in  thinking  of  these  scenes,  contrasted  the  peaceful 
serenity  and  pure  pleasures  of  the  exiled  lives  of  my  father 
and  his  friends,  with  the  stormy  and  painful  ordeal  they 
had  encountered  in  their  native  land.” 

In  1829,  Sampson  writing  to  his  old  friend  Hamilton 
Eowan,  says,  “  It  is  so  long  since  I  have  encountered  any 
hostility  or  ill  office,  or  envious  or  angry  words  from  any 
man,  that  I  may  truly  say,  I  live  in  charity  with  all  man¬ 
kind,  in  which  blessed  spirit,  as  they  say  at  the  end  of  all 
sermons,  may  we  all  live.” 

Thus  happy  in  the  bosom  of  his  family  and  respected 
by  all  who  knew  him,  he  lived  here  in  peace  and  honor 
thirty  years. 

But  the  longest  and  brightest  day  must  come  to  a  close. 
In  1820  Sampson  had  received  a  severe  shock  in  the  death 
of  his  only  son,  who  bore  the  name  of  Curran,  and  had 
been  educated  for  the  bar.  He  had  studied  at  the  law 
school  in  Litchfield,  and  in  1818  entered  upon  practice  in 
Hew  Orleans.  Here  he  had  great  advantage  from  speaking 
the  French  language  with  the  same  facility  as  the  English. 
His  Irish  warmth  of  manner,  and  his  liberal  political 
opinions,  made  him  a  favorite  with  the  French  population. 
This,  united  with  fine  talents  and  a  thorough  education, 
gave  promise  of  high  success.  He  had  already  entered  on 


GRAVES  OF  THE  EXILES. 


347 


a  brilliant  career,  when  he  was  struck  down  by  the  yellow 
fever  in  August,  1820,  about  the  same  time  with  another 
young  man  of  great  promise  in  a  different  profession,  the 
lamented  Larned. 

Sampson  died  in  1836,  after  a  lingering  illness,  which 
he  bore  with  the  serenity  and  fortitude  which  had  marked 
his  whole  life.  His  widow  still  lives  in  New  York  in  a 
beautiful  old  age.  She  is  the  last  of  the  exiles. 

Mr.  Wilson,  who  married  the  widow  of  Tone,  and 
settled  in  Washington,  lived  but  a  few  years.  Mrs.  Tone 
Wilson  (as  she  was  always  called)  died  at  her  residence  in 
Georgetown,  March,  1849.  Her  son,  who  settled  in  New 
York,  and  married  the  only  daughter  of  Sampson,  his 
father’s  friend,  died  in  1828,  leaving  a  widow  and  daugh¬ 
ter,  who  are  all  that  now  bear  the  name  of  Tone.  Mrs. 
Sampson  and  Mrs.  Tone  reside  together,  watching  over  the 
only  descendant  of  two  families  distinguished  in  the  history 
of  their  country. 

In  1841  McNeven  was  borne  to  his  grave.  He  died  as 
he  lived,  in  the  communion  of  the  Roman  Catholic  church. 
His  funeral  took  place  from  St.  Patrick’s  Cathedral,  where 
his  countryman,  Bishop  Hughes,  read  the  solemn  service 
for  the  dead,  and  as  the  heavy  tones  of  the  organ  rolled 
through  the  aisles,  solemn  and  plaintive  voices  chanted  a 
requiem  for  the  departed  soul. 

A  few  miles  from  New  York,  in  a  small  grave-yard 
overlooking  the  waters  of  the  Sound,  rest  Sampson  and 
McNeven,  two  as  brave  hearts  as  ever  lived  or  died  for  any 
country.  The  Protestant  and  the  Catholic  sleep  side  by  side, 
as  if  to  carry  out  even  in  the  grave  the  principles  of 


348 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


the  United  Irishmen.  “  They  were  lovely  and  pleasant  in 
their  lives,  and  in  death  they  were  not  divided.”  A  rose¬ 
bush,  planted  on  this  spot,  has  grown  till  it  now  covers  it 
with  beauty  and  fragrance.  Hot  many  months  ago  an 
Irish  heart,  led  by  sympathy  to  the  spot,  discovered  that 
a  little  bird  had  built  its  nest  over  the  graves.  Was  this 
the  spirit  of  some  Irish  exile,  which  had  come  to  pour  its 
lament  over  the  dust  of  the  benefactors  of  his  country  ? 

We  might  lament  the  hard  fate  of  these  men,  were  we 
not  consoled  by  the  reflection  that  no  great  example  is  ever 
lost  to  the  world.  It  is  not  in  vain  that  we  contemplate 
the  sad  and  beautiful  lesson  of  virtue  in  adversity,  a  sight 
worthy  of  the  gods.  USTo  men  ever  had  a  better  cause,  or 
fought  for  it  with  more  steadiness,  or  suffered  for  it  with 
more  constancy.  They  awaked  their  country  from  the 
sleep  of  ages.  They  strove  to  raise  up  a  crushed  people 
from  the  most  abject  bondage.  They  sought  to  extinguish 
the  religious  feuds  which  had  descended  from  generation  to 
generation.  They  drove  away  the  foul  fiend,  bigotry,  from 
the  island.  They  set  an  example  of  union.  They  taught 
their  countrymen  that  they  were  brothers,  and  that,  if 
united,  they  might  be  free. 

For  a  time  they  met  only  obloquy  and  persecution. 
Their  names  were  cast  out  as  evil.  The  storm  of  power 
burst  upon  their  heads.  They  were  scorned  and  outlawed, 
imprisoned  and  finally  banished  forever  from  their 
country. 

But  the  seed  which  they  had  planted  in  the  Irish  soil 
still  remained  and  grew.  From  their  home  on  the  other 


GRAVES  OF  THE  EXILES. 


349 


side  of  the  Atlantic,  they  watched  the  progress  of  their 
principles.  They  lived  to  see  them  triumphant,  not  only 
in  Ireland,  but  in  England.  Time  vindicated  the  wisdom 
of  their  policy.  A  great  change  has  taken  place  since 
1798.  Fifty  years,  if  they  have  not  completed  the  libera¬ 
tion  of  Ireland,  have  accomplished  the  objects  at  which  the 
United  Irishmen  originally  aimed. 

The  very  government  which  drove  them  into  exile  or 
into  the  grave,  has  paid  the  highest  tribute  to  their  memory 
in  the  adoption  of  their  measures.  Those  military  atroci¬ 
ties  which  goaded  a  brave  people  into  rebellion,  have  long 
since  ceased.  Catholic  Emancipation,  which  was  derided 
as  an  impossible  reform,  is  notv  an  accomplished  fact.  And 
the  English  Parliament  has  had  to  carry  out  in  its  own 
body,  that  more  just  representation  which  was  vainly  de¬ 
manded  in  Ireland.  In  this  great  victory  of  justice  over 
injustice  the  exiles  had  a  part. 

The  voice  of  the  exile  from  a  foreign  shore,  is  often 
more  powerful  with  his  countrymen  than  if  he  still  lived 
among  them.  It  derives  pathos  and  power  from  distance. 
It  sounds  afar  off,  sad,  yet  mighty,  as  the  ocean.  It  be¬ 
comes  prophetic.  It  is  like  the  voice  of  a  remote  time.  \B 
anticipates  the  sentence  of  history. 

IIow  strange  are  the  revolutions  of  opinion!  Fifty 
years  ago  these  men  were  banished  as  traitors.  But 

“  Time  is  the  restorer  of  the  just, 

The  beautifier  of  the  dead.” 


Now  their  names  have  entered  into  history.  Even  the 
sternest  judge  can  pronounce  no  severer  condemnation 


350 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


than  that  they  loved  their  country,  “  not  wisely  but  too 
well.” 

The  exiles  sleep  on  a  foreign  shore,  but  they  are  not 
forgotten  in  the  land  of  their  birth.  They  shared  her 
unhappy  fortunes.  It  is  their  reward  to  have  left  a  name 
which  shall  be  forever  green  as  their  native  island. 


CHAPTER  XXXII. 


A  last  Look  at  Ireland. — Sad  Aspects. — The  late  Famtne. — Bright  Spots 

HERE  AND  THERE. - EMANCIPATION  OF  THE  CATHOLICS. - THE  ESTABLISHED 

Church. — Grant  to  Maynooth. — The  Queen’s  Colleges. — Old  Parties 
broken  up. — The  Orangemen. — No  more  Repeal. — Sale  of  Encumbered 
Estates. — Tenant  Right. — Elasticity  of  the  Irish  Character. — Na¬ 
tional  Faults  and  Virtues. — Warm  Affections. — The  Irish  Emigrant. — 
Welcome  to  America. — Hope  of  better  Days. 


Standing  thus  by  the  graves  of  the  exiles,  we  turn  to 
take  a  last  look  at  the  land  they  left  beyond  the  sea. 
How  fares  she  now  ? 

We  take  leave  of  Ireland  with  a  feeling  of  sadness. 
She  is  still  unhappy.  The  harp  of  Erin,  that  hangs  sus¬ 
pended  in  the  night  wind,  gives  forth  a  melancholy  strain. 
For  several  years  past  that  country  has  presented  the 
saddest  spectacle  under  heaven.  Famine  and  pestilence 
stalk  through  pale  and  stricken  millions.  In  those  who 
have  strength  left  to  go,  is  begun  a  wholesale  system  of 
expatriation.  The  sands  of  every  beach  echo  the  tread  of 
their  departing  feet.  Ship  after  ship  bears  them  away 
across  the  rolling  billow,  to  Australia  or  to  America,  yet 
never  to  forget 


Their  own  loved  island  of  Borrow.’ 


352 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


It  was  happy  that  the  exiles  did  not  live  to  see  the 
miseries  which  have  since  visited  their  native  land. 
Their  eyes  were  closed  in  death  before  they  could  witness 
this  accumulation  of  woe. 

Yet  even  in  this  dark  prospect  there  are  some  bright 
spots.  Ireland  is  not  dead.  The  island  is  not  sunk  in  the 
sea.  The  stormy  Northern  Ocean  has  rolled  its  tremen- 
dous  waves  for  centuries  against  the  basaltic  columns  of  the 
Giant’s  Causeway.  And  still  it  dashes  its  spray  high  in 
air,  but  the  mighty  cliffs  remain. 

So  the  resources  of  Ireland  are  not  all  gone.  It  is 
common  to  think  that  a  country  so  old,  and  that  has  seen 
so  much  suffering,  must  have  exhausted  its  life.  But  in 
nature  there  is  eternal  youth.  Ireland  blooms  to-day  as 
fresh  and  fair  as  ever.  The  corn  on  her  hills  is  springing 
fresh  and  green.  Her  rivers  still  run  swift  and  sparkling 
to  the  sea. 

Indeed  man  has  but  begun  to  appreciate  the  wealth  of 
that  beautiful  island.  The  capital  of  London  is  beginning 
to  pour  into  it.  English  travel  turns  from  the  highlands 
of  Scotland  to  the  beauties  of  the  sister  island.  A  railway 
conveys  the  tourist  from  Dublin  to  the  Lakes  of  Killarney. 

The  mind  of  the  nation  too  is  awaking.  In  1797 
Grattan  said,  “The  progress  of  the  human  mind  in  the 
course  of  the  last  twenty-five  years  has  been  prodigious  in 
Ireland.”  The  struggle  for  independence  gave  a  spring  to 
the  life  of  the  people.  Even  the  political  agitations  since, 
have  been  a  sign  of  hope,  returning  into  the  breasts  of  a 
crushed  and  abject  people. 


JUSTICE  TO  THE  CATHOLICS. 


353 


The  Irish  are  also  slowly  experiencing  political  justice. 
We  believe  the  people  of  England  are  now  disposed  to  do 
justice  to  Ireland.  The  emancipation  of  the  Catholics  was 
finally  carried  in  1829,  thirty  years  after  it  had  been  prom¬ 
ised  as  the  price  of  union.  The  exertions  of  Sidney  Smith 
and  Brougham,  and  of  so  many  of  the  noble  spirits  of 
England,  obtained  this  great  act  of  national  justice,  and 
the  first  Catholic  who  entered  the  British  House  of  Com¬ 
mons  was  Daniel  O’Connell. 

Since  that  day  Ireland  has  never  wanted  an  advocate  on 
that  floor.  The  eloquence  of  Shiel,  the  companion  of 
O’Connell  in  the  struggle  for  Catholic  emancipation,  and 
now  the  strong  voices  of  Cobden  and  Bright,  plead  for 
justice  to  Ireland,  and  do  not  plead  in  vain. 

To  render  complete  justice  to  both  Catholics  and  Dis¬ 
senters,  the  present  Established  Church  of  Ireland  should 
be  abolished.  It  is  an  abuse  which  ought  not  to  stand. 
It  is  not  the  Church  of  the  people.  It  is  forced  upon  them 
against  their  will.  It  accomplishes  little  for  their  moral 
improvement,  while  it  is  a  heavy  burden  to  the  State.  It 
is  little  changed  since  the  time  of  James  II.,  when  it  is  cha¬ 
racterized  by  Macaulay  as  the  “most  absurd  ecclesiastical 
establishment  the  world  has  ever  seen. — Four  archbishops 
and  eighteen  bishops,  were  employed  in  looking  after  about 
a  fifth  part  of  the  number  of  churchmen  who  inhabited 
the  single  diocese  of  London.”  We  have  heard  of  “a 
church  without  a  bishop,”  but  never  until  we  visited  Ire¬ 
land,  did  we  understand  how  a  church  could  subsist  “with¬ 
out  a  congregation.” 

To  some  it  may  appear  a  laudable  religious  zeal  to 


354 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


maintain  expensive  churches,  which  are  unvisited  except 
by  the  rector,  the  clerk,  aud  the  beadle.  But  to  Ameri¬ 
cans,  who  abjure  all  establishments,  it  appears  downright 
stupidity,  and  a  waste  of  wealth  which  might  be  applied  to 
better  use. 

We  cherish  no  Puritan  hatred  to  the  Church  of  Eng¬ 
land.  All  honor  to  that  great  Communion  which  has 
furnished  a  refuge  to  so  many  distracted  minds  and  weary 
hearts,  and  given  them  the  unspeakable  blessing  of  a 
Christian  faith  and  hope.  We  would  not  displace  a  single 
arch  or  column  from  her  temples,  nor  pluck  rudely 
the  moss  from  a  single  gray  wall.  Burke  has  uttered  the 
true  sentiment  in  his  noble  language: — “I  wish  to  see  the 
Established  Church  of  England  great  and  powerful.  I 
wish  to  see  her  foundations  laid  low  and  deep,  that  she  may 
crush  the  giant  powers  of  rebellious  darkness.  I  would 
have  her  head  raised  up  to  that  heaven  to  which  she  con¬ 
ducts  us.  But  Episcopacy  may  fail  and  Religion  exist. 
The  most  horrid  and  cruel  blow  that  can  be  offered  to  civil 
society  is  through  Atheism. — Do  not  promote  diversity. 
Where  you  have  it  bear  it.  Let  it  be  but  a  serious  re¬ 
ligion.  Take  what  you  can  get;  cherish,  blow  up  the 
lightest  spark.” 

It  is  by  general  tolerance  and  encouragement  of  all 
forms  of  Christianity,  that  a  principle  of  reverence  and  of 
religion  is  to  be  planted  in  the  hearts  of  the  nation,  rather 
than  by  forcing  one  Church  on  a  reluctant  people. 

The  Act  of  Parliament,  granting  £27,000  a  year  to 
Maynooth  College,  though  many  of  the  Protestants  made 
an  outcry  about  it,  was  but  an  act  of  justice  to  the  Catho- 


THE  ORANGEMEN. 


355 


lies  of  Ireland — none  the  less  so  because  so  long  delayed. 
The  Protestants  have  seized  the  old  cathedrals,  the  vast  re¬ 
ligious  foundations,  the  Church  lands,  and  it  is  but  right 
that  they  should  make  a  slight  restitution,  even  at  this 
late  day.  As  a  matter  of  policy  also,  to  tranquilize  Ire¬ 
land,  a  first  point  must  be  to  gain  the  priests.  And  they 
are  much  more  likely  to  be  loyal  subjects,  educated  at 
home,  than  if  driven  abroad  by  oppressive  laws  to  the 
Universities  of  France  and  Spain.  It  is  better  that  they 
should  go  to  Maynooth  than  to  St.  Omer’s  or  Seville. 

It  is  the  true  interest  of  England  to  educate  all  her 
Irish  subjects,  Catholic  and  Protestant.  This  noble  object 
is  sought  in  the  establishment  of  the  Queen’s  Colleges. 
Three  are  already  in  operation — at  Belfast,  Cork,  and  Gal¬ 
way.  They  are  richly  endowed,  and  are  open  equally  to 
Catholics  and  Protestants. 

It  is  a  hopeful  sign  for  Ireland  that  old  parties  are  be¬ 
ing  broken  up.  The  Orange  association,  after  having 
caused  discord  and  misery  enough,  is  dead. 

This  body,  which  takes  its  name  from  William,  Prince 
of  Orange,  banded  together — so  say  its  members — to  sup¬ 
port  “  Protestant  ascendency”  in  the  island.  The  Catho¬ 
lics  affirm  with  more  reason,  that  its  object  is  to  persecute 
them.  A  body  organized  for  a  political  purpose,  yet  tak¬ 
ing  the  pretense  and  the  sanction  of  religion,  must  always 
become  an  abuse.  The  professed  zeal  for  Protestantism 
which  has  animated  the  Orange  party,  has  been  well  de¬ 
scribed  as  “hatred  of  popery,  ignorance  of  Christianity,  and 
a  total  absence  of  moral  principle.” 


356 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


But  tliis  organization,  that  has  perpetuated  religious 
hatreds  so  long,  has  had  its  day.  The  late  dismissal  of 
their  chief,  Lord  Roden,  from  the  magistracy,  is  a  sign  that 
government  is  disposed  to  break  with  this  faction  that  has 
ruled  and  ruined  Ireland.  Severe  acts  of  Parliament 
against  their  processions  have  completed  their  humiliation. 
The  last  tidings  were  that  the  Orange  lodges  were  tearing 
up  their  flags  and  smashing  their  drums,  signs  of  entirely 
disbanding.  It  is  the  best  thing  they  have  done  since  they 
had  an  existence.  “  Nothing  in  life  becomes  them  like 
leaving  it.” 

On  the  other  hand,  little  is  to  be  expected  for  the  per¬ 
manent  good  of  Ireland  from  violent  agitation  for  Repeal. 
The  day  for  this  too  has  gone  by.  Guilty  as  the  Union 
was  at  first,  it  does  not  follow  that  its  repeal  is  to  be 
thought  of  as  a  remedy  for  the'  present  distresses  of  the 
country.  The  Union  was  consmnmated  by  bribing  a  legis- 
ture,  but  the  parties  are  now  married  to  each  other  for 
better,  for  worse,  and  they  must  make  the  best  of  it. 
The  evils  of  Ireland  will  be  mitigated  much  more  by 
drawing  still  closer  the  bonds  of  union,  than  by  perpetually 
suing  for  a  divorce.  In  the  late  famine  England  made  the 
most  noble  exertions  for  her  relief,  and  it  is  time  to 
forget  old  causes  of  bitterness  and  to  live  in  harmony. 
Lord  John  Russell  proposes  to  abolish  the  vice-regal  court. 
This  will  draw  closer  the  bonds  of  union.  Why  should 
Ireland  be  regarded  as  a  separate  kingdom  any  more  than 
Scotland?  Besides,  the  Lord  Lieutenant  has  generally 
fallen  into  the  hands  of  the  Orange  faction,  and  helped  to 


GREAT  ESTATES  BROKEN  UP. 


357 


maintain  an  odious  party  ascendency,  which,  must  always 
irritate  the  feelings  of  the  native  Irish. 

Now  that  railroads  traverse  every  part  of  the  United 
Kingdom,  and  that  steamboats  cross  the  channel  in  three 
hours,  Ireland  is  not  so  far  off  as  Wales  was  a  century  ago. 
Dublin  is  as  near  to  London  as  Edinburgh. 

It  is  time  then  to  give  up  useless  agitation,  and  to  turn 
the  people  to  practicable  reforms.  No  more  monster  meet¬ 
ings  !  Let  the  strong  arms  of  the  peasantry  cultivate  the 
land.  The  bill  for  the  relief  of  encumbered  estates  was  a 
great  step  in  the  right  direction.  There  is  land  enough  in 
Ireland  to  support  her  whole  population,  could  it  be  in  the 
hands  of  persons  living  on  it,  and  be  properly  cultivated. 
But  it  has  been  divided  into  immense  tracts,  owned  gen¬ 
erally  by  noblemen  residing  out  of  the  country,  who  have 
drained  off  the  whole  income  to  be  spent  in  London.  Of 
course  they  have  depreciated  in  value,  and  been  encum¬ 
bered  with  heavy  mortgages.  But  by  the  law  of  entail 
they  could  not  be  sold.  The  proprietor  who  seldom  visit¬ 
ed  his  estate  had  little  inducement  to  make  improvements. 
His  policy  has  been  to  get  the  full  income  from  his  land, 
and  to  expend  nothing  upon  it.  Thus  Ireland  has  been 
reduced  to  the  lowest  point  of  poverty.  Iler  people  have 
been  starving  while  whole  districts  lay  waste. 

The  effect  of  this  bill  is  to  break  up  this  old  feudalism, 
to  sweep  away  those  vast  properties  which  have  been  an 
incubus  upon  the  prosperity  of  Ireland.  Great  estates  are 
brought  into  market.  They  are  divided  into  small  farms, 
and  sold, — generally  to  the  cultivators  of  the  soil.  These 
are  men  who  live  on  the  land,  and  who  will  pour  back 


358 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


into  the  bosom  of  tbe  country  the  wealth  which  they 
draw  from  it. 

One  thing  more  is  wanting,  to  encourage  the  laborer 
in  his  toil — a  just  Landlord  and  Tenant  law.  The  bane 
of  Ireland  is  an  abominable  system  of  land-letting.  Every 
proprietor  -wishes  to  get  the  utmost  from  his  estate;  he 
employs  an  agent  to  grind  the  faces  of  the  poor — a  char¬ 
acter  proverbially  as  harsh  and  exacting  as  the  overseer 
on  a  slave  plantation.  This  petty  tyrant  does  not  scruple 
to  extort  from  the  miserable  peasant  the  highest  rent,  and  at 
the  same  time  to  refuse  him  any  allowance  for  his  improve¬ 
ments,  for  the  better  cultivation  of  the  land,  or  the  build¬ 
ings  he  may  put  upon  it.  Of  course  he  has  no  motive  to 
labor  for  any  thing  beyond  his  bread.  If  he  tills  the  soil 
so  well  as  to  get  a  large  crop,  and  raises  the  value  of  the 
land,  the  landlord  will  raise  his  rent.  If  he  build  a 
good  house  for  his  family,  he  may  be  turned  out  of  it 
at  the  end  of  the  year  without  a  penny  for  his  trouble. 
Thus  the  Irish  proprietor  is  a  slaveholder.  The  peasants 
are  his  slaves.  They  hold  life  but  at  his  pleasure.  They  are 
indeed  far  more  miserable  than  the  slaves  on  our  Southern 
plantations,  for  while  they  are  equally  dependent,  they 
have  not  the  claim  on  their  master  of  being  his  property. 
If  the  landlord  owned  his  serfs,  he  would  take  care  of  them 
for  the  same  reason  that  he  keeps  his  horses  in  good  con¬ 
dition.  But  now  he  works  them  like  slaves  so  long  as  it 
is  for  his  interest,  and  then  turns  them  out  by  the  roadside 
to  starve. 

These  facts  should  be  remembered  by  those  who  charge 
the  Irish  with  being  an  idle  and  shiftless  people.  They 


TENANT  RIGHT  LEAGUE. 


359 


have  no  motive  to  work.  The  Irish  laborer  has  not  had  a 
fair  chance.  Give  him  his  rights,  and  then  see  if  his  arm 
is  not  as  strong,  and  his  will  as  hearty,  as  that  of  the  free 
and  independent  laborer  of  our  own  country. 

At  length  this  has  become  the  absorbing  question  in 
Ireland.  Other  excitements  have  subsided.  Emancipa¬ 
tion  is  carried,  and  Eepeal  is  dead.  Now  for  Tenant  Right 
— the  right  of  the  honest  laborer  to  the  work  of  his  hands, 
to  the  bread  which  he  earns  with  the  sweat  of  his  brow. 

Recently  a  large  convention  assembled  in  Dublin  and 
organized  a  Tenant  Right  League,  which  promises  to  prove 
as  powerful  as  the  Corn  Law  League  in  England.  All 
sects  and  ranks  join  in  the  movement.  In  the  Convention 
Presbyterian  ministers  and  Catholic  priests  sat  side  by  side. 
W e  anticipate  more  from  this  measure  than  from  any  other 
which  could  be  passed.  Hitherto  the  effort  to  extinguish 
pauperism  has  been  by  means  of  poor-houses  and  poor- 
rates.  A  more  effectual  method  now  presents  itself,  by  re¬ 
moving  the  causes  which  have  reduced  a  nation  to  beg¬ 
gary.  This  is  the  true  organization  of  labor — to  give  to 
every  man  the  fruit  of  his  toil. 

Yet  our  chief  hope  for  Ireland  is  in  the  unconquerable 
spirit  of  her  people.  Centuries  of  oppression  have  not 
broken  it.  There  is  an  elasticity  in  the  national  character, 
a  never  exhausted  freshness,  like  the  perpetual  green  of 
their  island.  The  carol  of  the  lark  is  not  more  light  and 
joyous,  than  is  the  Irish  heart  when  the  burden  of  oppres¬ 
sion  or  sorrow  is  taken  off 

No  country  has  been  more  prodigal  of  genius  than 


360 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


Ireland.  But  other  nations  have  reaped  tlie  glory.  For 
six  hundred  years  Ireland  has  had  no  distinct  history. 
Her  orators,  her  poets,  her  warriors,  have  swelled  the  fame 
of  many  lands.  Her  Burkes  and  Goldsmiths  have  spoken 
and  written  the  English  language,  and  have  gone  to  swell 
the  glory  of  English  literature.  To  an  Irishman  we  owe 
the  Vicar  of  Wakefield,  and  many  of  the  most  charming 
writings  in  our  language.  The  melodies  of  an  Irish  poet 
are  sung  on  land  and  sea,  far  as  English  voices  make 
music  in  their  native  tongue.  An  Irishman — Burke — was 
long  the  great  luminary  of  England,  the  statesman  and 
philosopher  from  whom  senates  learned  wisdom.  An  Irish¬ 
man — Sheridan — made  that  speech  on  the  charge  against 
Warren  Hastings,  of  which  “  the  wondrous  three,”  Burke, 
Fox  and  Pitt,  united  to  declare  their  admiration ; — which 
Burke  pronounced  “the  most  astonishing  effort  of  elo¬ 
quence,  argument  and  wit  united,  of  which  there  was  any 
record  or  tradition — of  which  Fox  said — “All  that  he  had 
ever  heard,  all  that  he  had  ever  read,  when  compared  with 
it,  dwindled  into  nothing,  and  vanished  like  vapor  before 
the  sun;” — of  which  Pitt  declared,  “that  it  surpassed  all  the 
eloquence  of  ancient  and  modern  times,  and  possessed 
every  thing  that  genius  or  art  could  furnish  to  agitate  and 
control  the  human  mind.” 

An  Irishman  commanded  the  English  army  at  Water¬ 
loo.  Irish  soldiers  have  fought  the  battles  of  England  in 
Spain  and  India.  What  mighty  public  monuments  might 
have  been  reared  upon  this  island  is  unknown,  for  her 
temples  and  her  pyramids  are  planted  on  English  soil. 
Many  a  palace  of  the  west  end  of  London  has  been  built 


FAULTS  OF  THE  IRISH. 


3G1 


with  wealth  drained  from  her  fields  and  from  her  famish¬ 
ing  peasantry.  Thus  for  England  has  she  poured  out  her 
treasure  and  her  blood.  For  this  unreserved  sacrifice  of 
herself,  “as  poor,  and  yet  making  many  rich,”  she  de¬ 
serves  at  least  the  gratitude  of  mankind,  and  sympathy  in 
her  misfortunes. 

The  faults  of  the  Irish  are  often  a  subject  of  remark. 
It  is  well  that  their  good  qualities  be  not  forgotten.  Who¬ 
ever  has  observed  closely  the  traits  of  that  extraordinary 
people,  will  recognize  a  noble  nature,  quick  to  form  friend¬ 
ships,  and  full  of  liberal  impulses.  Their  faults  are 
those  incident  to  a  generous  character — or  induced  by  the 
miseries  of  their  situation.  “  I  love  the  Irish,”  said  Charles 
Fox,  “  what  they  have  of  good  is  of  themselves,  what  they 
have  of  bad  is  from  you.” 

They  are  said  to  be  improvident.  This  is  partly  the 
effect  of  those  cruel  laws  which  destroyed  in  the  peasant 
all  hope  of  accumulation,  or  of  bettering  his  circumstances. 
He  had  no  home,  no  plot  of  ground  which  was  his  own,  no 
cottage  which  was  his  castle.  He  lived  as  he  could  from  day 
to-day.  Such  people  are  always  improvident.  Insecurity 
of  life  or  property  begets  reckless  habits.  He  who  is  liable 
to  be  robbed  of  all  he  has,  will  hasten  to  spend  it  before 
the  spoiler  comes.  He  will  waste  in  extravagance  to-day, 
though  he  knows  not  where  he  is  to  get  bread  for  to¬ 
morrow.  But  improvidence  is  partly  the  error  of  a  too 
free  and  generous  nature.  Though  poor  himself,  the  Irish 
peasant  is  as  hospitable  as  an  Arab  chief.  The  cabin  door 
is  ever  open.  He  has  little  to  offer,  but  what  he  has  is  at 

Q 


362 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


the  service  of  tlie  stranger.  In  this  respect  Goldsmith, 
poor,  but  sharing  his  last  farthing  with  a  friend,  is  a  type 
of  the  whole  Irish  nation. 

The  Irish  are  accused  of  deceitfulness.  But  this  is  the 
vice  of  servitude.  “Oppression,”  says  an  old  writer,  “  did 
of  necessitie  make  the  Irish  a  crafty  people ;  for  such  as 
are  oppressed  and  live  in  slavery  are  ever  put  to  their 
shifts.”  Is  it  surprising  that  a  people  who  have  been 
treated  as  slaves  for  six  hundred  years,  should  have  some 
of  the  vices  of  slaves  ? 

They  are  said  to  be  turbulent  and  resentful.  But  it  is 
their  tyrants  who  have  made  them  so.  They  have  been 
so  long  accustomed  to  oppression,  that  a  sense  of  injury 
and  wrong  has  been  ground  into  their  nature.  They  have 
come  to  regard  resistance  to  authority,  as  almost  of  course 
resistance  to  injustice.  But  says  Sir  John  Davies,  “  There 
is  no  nation  under  the  sun  that  love  equal  and  indifferent 
justice  better  than  the  Irish,  or  will  rest  better  satisfied 
with  the  execution  thereof,  although  it  be  against  them¬ 
selves,  so  as  they  may  have  the  benefit  and  protection  of 
the  law  when  upon  just  cause  they  do  desire  it.”  Sir 
Edward  Coke  says,  “  I  have  been  informed  by  many  of 
them  that  have  had  judicial  places  there,  and  partly  of 
mine  own  knowledge,  that  there  is  no  nation  of  the  Chris¬ 
tian  world  that  are  greater  lovers  of  justice,  than  they  are, 
which  virtue  must  of  necessity  be  accompanied  with  many 
others.” 

Against  these  faults  we  may  set  up  many  of  the  no¬ 
blest  qualities  of  the  human  heart.  If  they  are  quick  to 
resent  an  injury,  no  people  in  the  world  are  more  easily 


THE  IRISH  HEART. 


363 


touched  by  kindness.  None  are  more  susceptible  to 
friendship,  or  show  greater  fidelity.  Indeed  their  whole 
character  is  one  of  simple-hearted  affection,  so  that  they 
have  been  called  truly  the  Children  of  the  Nations. 

Perhaps  the  most  remarkable  trait  in  the  character  of 
the  Irish  is  their  affection  for  each  other.  In  any  part  of 
the  world  they  recognize  their  countrymen  as  brothers. 
The  ocean  rolling  between  them  and  their  fathers  and 
mothers,  does  not  make  them  forget  the  kindred  they  have 
left.  Of  this  warmth  of  the  Irish  heart  we  have  a  striking 
proof,  in  the  thousand  remittances  which  go  back  monthly 
from  poor  laboring  men  and  servant  girls  in  this  country, 
to  help  their  brothers  and  sisters  to  emigrate.  In  the  year 
1849,  nearly  two  millions  of  dollars  passed  through  Liver¬ 
pool  and  New  York  houses,  from  emigrants  to  their  friends 
in  Ireland. 

A  recent  article  in  Frazer’s  Magazine  on  the  British 
Post  Office,  speaking  of  the  dead  letters,  says,  “In  looking 
over  the  list  of  articles  remaining  in  these  two  offices,  [the 
Scotch  and  the  Irish]  one  can  not  help  being  struck  with 
the  manner  in  which  they  illustrate  the  feelings  and  habits 
of  the  two  peoples.  The  Scotch  dead  letters  rarely  con¬ 
tain  coin,  and  of  articles  of  jewelry,  such  as  form  presents, 
sent  as  tokens  of  affection,  there  is  a  lamentable  deficiency; 
while  the  Irish  ones  are  full  of  little  cadeaux,  and  small 
sums  of  money,  illustrating  at  once  the  careless  yet  af¬ 
fectionate  nature  of  the  people.  One  item  constantly  meets 
the  eye  in  Irish  dead  letters — “A  free  passage  to  New 
York.”  Relations,  who  have  gone  to  America,  and  done 
well,  purchase  an  emigration  ticket,  and  forward  it  to  some 


364 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


relative  in  ‘the  ould  country,’  whom  they  wish  to  come 
over  to  join  them  in  their  prosperity.  Badly  written  and 
worse  spelt,  many  of  them  have  little  chance  of  ever 
reaching  their  destination,  and  as  little  of  being  returned 
to  those  who  sent  them.  They  lie  silent  in  the  office  for  a 
time,  and  are  then  destroyed,  while  hearts  endeared  to 
each  other  by  absence,  enforced  by  the  sundering  ocean, 
mourn  in  sorrow  an  imaginary  neglect.” 

It  must  be  matter  of  gratification  to  every  heart  that 
can  feel  for  others’  woe,  that  the  relations  are  so  intimate 
between  Ireland  and  this  country,  and  that  we  can  furnish 
a  home  for  her  famishing  children.  America  has  already 
shown  her  sympathy  for  Ireland  by  sending  ships  laden 
with  corn,  to  furnish  food  to  her  people  when  stricken  by 
famine — an  act  of  kindness  which  sunk  deep  into  their 
hearts,  and  which  they  will  never  forget.  America  in  re¬ 
turn  is  looked  to  with  affection  by  all  the  poorer  Irish,  as 
the  land  where  their  brothers  and  sisters  have  gone.  No 
American  traveler  can  visit  Ireland,  without  being  touched 
with  the  affectionate  manner  in  which  the  peasantry  speak 
of  his  country.  “O  never,”  says  Phillips,  “can  Ireland 
forget  the  home  of  her  emigrant,  and  the  asylum  of  her 
exile.” 

W e  too,  on  our  part,  owe  much  to  the  Irish  race.  The 
very  land  we  occupy,  the  freedom  which  we  boast,  have 
been  purchased  in  part  by  Irish  blood.  Irish  soldiers  have 
fought  in  all  our  wars.  The  gallant  Montgomery  falling 
on  the  heights  of  Quebec,  with  the  snow  drifting  around 
him  for  a  winding-sheet,  showed  the  chivalrous  ardor  with 


IRELAND  AND  AMERICA. 


365 


which  the  sons  of  Ireland  rushed  to  the  battle  for  freedom. 
In  that  long  and  doubtful  struggle  for  independence,  colo¬ 
nists  from  the  north  of  Ireland,  who  had  emigrated  but  a 
few  years  before,  were  found  in  the  ranks  with  our  fathers. 
Their  bodies  were  stretched  on  many  a  bloody  plain.  An 
Irish  emigrant’s  boy,  who  was  struck  for  refusing  to  black 
an  English  officer’s  boots,  lived  to  draw  up  the  riflemen  of 
Kentucky  in  a  line  which  stood  like  a  wall  of  fire  before 
the  English  columns  at  New  Orleans,  and  which  drove 
them  headlong  to  their  ships.  In  many  a  strife  by  land 
and  sea  Irishmen  have  stood  beside  our  soldiers  and  sailors 
on  the  rampart  and  on  the  deck.  Irish  valor  helped  to 
plant  the  stars  and  stripes  on  the  walls  of  Mexico.  In 
boarding  the  enemy’s  ships  in  the  last  war  with  England, 
often  the  Irish  brogue  shouted  with  the  men  of  Marble¬ 
head.  And  when  we 

“  Think  of  them  that  sleep 
Full  many  a  fathom  deep” 

beneath  our  blood-dyed  waters,  let  us  not  forget  the 
strangers  whose  frames  decay  beside  the  bodies  of  our 
brave  American  tars. 

But  “peace  has  her  victories  as  well  as  war.”  And  in 
these  Ireland  has  contributed  still  more  to  the  grandeur  of 
our  country.  We  doubt  if  a  railroad  lies  between  Canada 
and  the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  whose  embankments  have  not 
been  piled  up  by  Irish  hands.  They  have  built  our  great 
public  works,  those  monuments  of  national  wealth  and 
power,  which  are  more  glorious  than  the  pyramids  of 


366 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


Egypt.  A  goodly  sight  it  is  to  see  these  sturdy  laborers 
swarming  along  the  line  of  our  iron  highways,  digging 
through  the  hills  as  if  mining  a  city’s  walls,  and  to  see  their 
axes  clearing  a  path  through  the  forest.  As  a  matter  of 
policy  therefore,  we  should  draw  closer  our  relations  with 
Ireland,  and  encourage  emigration  to  America. 

The  two  countries  are  daily  drawing  nearer.  Ireland 
lies  in  the  track  of  our  European  commerce.  A  railroad 
has  just  been  opened  across  the  kingdom  from  Dublin  to 
Galway,  there  to  connect  Avith  a  line  of  Ocean  steamers  to 
America.  The  trade  of  this  country,  which  has  enriched 
Liverpool,  will  yet  enter  the  noble  harbors  on  the  western 
coast  of  Ireland.  Those  great  ports  stretch  out  their  broad 
arms  into  the  Atlantic,  as  if  to  welcome  the  ships  which 
come  sailing  from  the  West. 

But  beside  the  obligation  of  mutual  favors,  which  draAV 
us  together,  Ireland  has  upon  us  the  more  sacred  claim 
of  misfortune.  Her  children  are  still  in  want  and  Avoe. 
Misery  and  famine  are  at  their  doors.  The  peasant  is 
forced  to  leave  his  country,  but  he  does  it  with  a  heavy 
heart.  We  can  imagine  no  more  touching  spectacle  than 
that  of  the  Irish  emigrant,  about  to  bid  fareAvell  to  his 
country,  standing  for  the  last  time  on  one  of  her  mountains, 
taking  a  last  fond  look  of  his  native  Erin,  and  turning 
mournfully  to  the  setting  sun  that  shines  down  on  his 
future  home.  Be  it  our  pride  to  offer  hospitality  to  the 
suffering  of  the  Old  World.  It  is  matter  for  congratulation 
that  we  have  an  empire  so  rich  and  vast — that  in  our  great 


WELCOME  TO  AMERICA. 


367 


Western  Valley  we  are  able  to  spread  a  table  for  the  whole 
world,  and  invite  mankind  to  a  feast. 

We  sometimes  hear  regret  expressed  at  the  swarms  of 
Irish  emigrants  which  land  upon  our  shores.  But  surely 
those  who  speak  thus  have  never  visited  Ireland,  and  seen 
the  miserable  condition  of  her  peasantry.  If  so,  they 
would  say,  Welcome,  one  and  all;  welcome,  in  God’s  name, 
to  our  wide  and  bountiful  land. 

To  see  these  peasants  in  their  cabins  at  home,  sitting  on 
the  floor  of  earth,  or  with  faces  pale  and  sunken,  bending 
over  the  peat  fire  burning  low,  and  distributing  the  last 
quart  of  potatoes  to  a  group  of  ragged  children — or  to  see 
the  miserable  objects,  draped  in  tatters,  that  stand  by  the 
road-side,  to  beg,— these  are  sights  to  melt  the  sternest 
heart. 

So  it  is  a  sad  sight  to  see  the  Irish  emigrants  who  land 
upon  our  wharves,  as  they  first  walk  through  the  streets, 
staring  about  Avith  a  bewildered  look,  and  feeling  that  they 
are  indeed  strangers  in  a  strange  land. 

But  it  does  one  good  to  follow  these  same  peasants, 
whose  backs  are  bent,  and  whose  spirits  are  almost  broken, 
and  to  see  them  in  a  few  months  rising  to  the  condition  of 
independent  and  happy  laborers;  to  see  the  abject  of  other 
lands,  as  soon  as  they  touch  Freedom’s  soil,  erect  themselves 
to  the  dignity  of  men. 

A  goodly  sight  it  is  to  see  these  sons  of  Erin  marching 
in  the  ranks  of  our  soldiers — or  to  mark  their  plow¬ 
shares  turning  up  the  rich  soil  on  our  Western  prairies — 
to  see  their  cabins  sprinkled  about  the  clearing  ;  the  house¬ 
wife  sitting  before  the  door,  plying  her  needle  in  the  sun, 


368 


THE  IRISH  CONFEDERATES. 


the  children  playing  on  the  green  sward,  and  to  hear  their 
voices  bursting  with  a  merry  shout  from  the  doors  of  our 
common  schools — or  to  see  the  parents  in  their  Sunday’s 
best,  walking  to  church,  their  children  trooping  by  their 
side. 

Welcome  then  to  the  brave,  warm-hearted  peasantry 
of  Ireland.  In  this  Hew  World  there  is  room  enough  for 
all.  Welcome  to  the  prairies  of  the  Great  Valley — and  to 
a  thousand  towns  and  villages  along  our  lakes  and  rivers. 
A  mixture  of  Irish  enthusiasm  with  Hew  England  shrewd¬ 
ness  would  improve  both  characters.  The  fusion  of  races 
will  form  a  composite  national  character,  superior  to  that 
of  Celt  or  Saxon  alone. 

And  let  us  hope  too  that  Ireland  will  not  be  left  to  pine 
like  a  mother  bereaved  of  her  children.  While  thousands 
of  her  sons  find  happy  homes  this  side  the  ocean,  and  here 
help  to  build  up  a  mighty  nation,  the  green  Island  itself 
may  rise  to  a  new  life. 

Poor  Ireland  !  Her  history  is  the  saddest  in  the  world. 
But  may  we  not  believe  that  her  days  of  suffering  are 
nearly  ended?  Many  indeed  of  her  bravest  sons  are  beyond 
the  reach  of  consolation.  Their  race  is  run.  But  they 
sleep  sweetly,  where  every  Irishman  wishes  to  take  his 
last  repose,  on  the  bosom  of  their  mother,  as  if  even  in 
death  they  could  not  rest  in  peace  except  upon  her  breast. 
Their  graves  are  green,  and  their  memory  does  not  die. 
For  the  living  a  better  day  is  even  now  at  hand. 

The  traveler  who  shall  visit  Ireland  a  few  years  hence, 
will  not  be  made  heart-sick  by  rows  of  poor-houses  which. 


HOPE  OF  BETTER  DAYS. 


360 


darken  the  land,  and  by  groups  of  savage  men  who  look 
out  of  the  grated  windows  of  jails.  His  eye  will  be  glad¬ 
dened  with  the  sight  of  school-houses  which  stand  under 
the  aged  oaks ;  boys  and  girls  that  now  loiter  along  the 
road  to  beg  of  travelers,  will  trip  merrily  to  school,  and 
all  the  glens  shall  ring  with  holy  bells.  The  low  wail  that 
now  comes  across  the  deep  will  cease,  and  hearts  grow 
gay,  and  glad  voices  be  heard  in  peasant’s  cot  and  lordly 
hall,  at  wedding  and  at  festival,  as  in  the  days  of  old  Erin. 
Then  may  her  children  assemble  on  the  ancient  hill  of 
Tara,  to  revive  the  glories  of  their  country,  and  sing  the 
songs  of  other  days.  Then  it  may  be  seen  that  long  adver¬ 
sity  has  made  Ireland  stronger  and  purer.  These  centuries 
of  woe  may  unite  the  hearts  of  her  people.  Misfortune 
softens  pride  and  bitterness.  It  brings  reconciliation. 
Common  grief  becomes  a  bond  of  union  and  strength. 

The  human  character  is  made  perfect  through  sufferings. 
"When  the  flower  is  crushed,  it  yields  its  richest  and  most 
abundant  fragrance.  So  it  is  when  heart  and  hope  are 
crushed,  that  the  human  spirit  exhales  its  finest  essence. 
Already  have  the  poverty  and  oppression  of  the  Irish  pro¬ 
duced  a  rich  harvest  of  beauteous  affections.  If  these 
trials  exalt  their  virtues,  it  is  not  in  vain  that  they  have 
suffered.  Past  sorrow  may  conduce  to  a  serener  future. 
When  the  storm  is  spent,  there  is  a  fresh  life  in  the 
air,  and  often  the  long,  dark  day  is  followed  by  a  clear,  mild 
evening. 


THE  END. 


pH 

D00520262H 


